To choose your world
by Sternenkind1750
Summary: For the very first time in his life, Legolas visits a city of men in the company of Aragorn. What happens there, poses a challenge to their relationship in a way neither would have imagined. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Obviously, the universe and the characters belong to Tolkien and I am only borrowing them for fun.

**Warning: **This story contains slash between Aragorn and Legolas, so please hit the back button now in case you disapprove. Also, obviously, this makes this story AU. It is assumed that Aragorn never fell in love with Arwen. Apart from that, we basically follow the timeline of the book and find ourselves roughly in the year 3006.

**A/N:** I am not a native English speaker and therefore will probably make grammar mistakes or use words in a weird way. Please be patient with me, I am very happy if you point any mistakes out to me :)

A group of riders returned from the forest, headed by the young Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. The party had been out hunting orcs and spiders, and returned in the evening exhausted, but pleased, as the hunt had gone well.

Legolas dismounted and walked his horse to the stables. He always rode without saddle or reigns, but the horse was wet from the fast ride and needed to be rubbed down with straw, a task, which also calmed himself, his body still rushed with adrenalin from the hunt.

Once his horse was dry and contentedly feeding on its hay, he went to his room to change his clothes quickly and rebraid his tangled hair, before he joined his father and brothers for their evening meal.

Entering his room, he quickly scanned the desk for letters. Even though he was rarely conversing by letters and from Aragorn, the only person he regularly exchanged letters with, he had not had word for more than half a year, he could not rid himself of this habit.

Today, however, he was not disappointed. For the first time in months there was a letter lying on his desk. It had his name written on it in Aragorn's quick, sometimes a little untidy handwriting and he quickly approached his desk, tearing the long desired letter open.

_My dearest Legolas, _

_I hope this letter finds you well. I was finally able to return to Rivendell for some days where I found your letter. I am so sorry that I was not able to write to you for such a long time, I have been in the wilderness these past months without any access to any dwelling of elves or men. However, about two weeks ago Mithrandir found me and asked me to perform an errand for him in Esgaroth, which I accepted most happily, knowing I would be able to visit Mirkwood on my way. _

_This leads me to a favor I would like to ask of you. I know that you are most engaged in the protection of Mirkwood these days, as the dark is drawing closer and orcs, spiders and other foul creatures are attacking your fair dwelling. However, as you mentioned that you would like to visit a dwelling of men for once, I wondered whether you might be able to get your father's leave to accompany me to Esgaroth? It has been so long since we were able to spend more than a few days together and you would make me the happiest man by accompanying me._

_I love you and cannot wait to see you in about one and a half month's time from now._

_Yours,_

_Aragorn_

Legolas laughed when he finished the letter. It was just as short and straightforward as Aragorn's letters always were, his own usually surpassed them in length more than three times.

He looked up the letter's date and found that Aragorn would probably arrive already three weeks from now. A feeling of utmost happiness bubbled up inside him, leaving him almost dizzy with excitement. It never failed to astonish him, how much a simple letter from Aragorn was able to affect his usually quite well composed feelings.

He sat down in the chair at his desk, rereading the letter and calming himself a little.

To travel together to Esgaroth was quite a fine suggestion. His father was not too fond of men – or any other race for that matter, expect for hobbits recently, but this was a different story. Aragorn was well aware of that, even though his father was usually most polite to him, not interested into alienating the possible future King of Gondor and Lord Elrond's foster son.

His father also disliked the relationship that had formed between himself and Aragorn, giving him a further reason to disapprove of Aragorn's presence. Love between elves and men was in general discouraged and even frowned upon, the elven children cautioned with stories about the few well-known couples formed of elves and men, who had rarely found a happy ending.

However, exactly for this reason Legolas doubted that his father would let him go. The elves of Mirkwood lived quite withdrawn and kept especially their young within its confines – Legolas had not even been given leave to visit the elven dwelling of Lothlórien yet, nor Esgaroth, the closest human dwelling to Mirkwood, even though the elves were engaged closely in trade with the town and sometimes even some men had come to Mirkwood for trading. Matters of trading, however, were not Legolas' métier; he was first and foremost a warrior and had therefore never been engaged in any contact with those men.

Suddenly, he realized that he had completely lost track of time. He quickly changed into a light brown robe, combed and braided his hair and then left to join his family at the table.

* * *

It was spring and King Thranduil was wearing a crown of white flowers and a light green robe, as always matching the season. The flowers contrasted heavily with the frown he gave his son, when he finally arrived. He did not, however, comment his late arrival any further, but inquired how the hunt had gone. Legolas relayed all details to him while they were eating, glad to find his father satisfied with the results.

When they had finished their meal, Legolas held his father back to have a few words with him after his brothers had left. He explained about Aragorn's letter and asked for his father's leave to go to Esgaroth with him. To his surprise, his father pondered the suggestion instead of turning it down immediately.

Finally King Thranduil said: "I suppose it is time for you to see more of Middle Earth if you desire so, my son. Seeing how you so carelessly have gotten involved with Elrond's human foster son shows me that you know too little of the world. Seeing the world of men which is also the Dúnadan's world – or at least will be his world if he becomes King of Gondor – with your own eyes might be the right cure for you, if my words cannot make you realize what you are getting yourself into. You must know what your choices are, before you make them." Thranduil looked at his son levelly.

"Thank you father", he replied tentatively. Thranduil nodded and left him alone to ponder his dark words.

* * *

In the following weeks Legolas awaited Aragorn's arrival eagerly, but his happiness was tainted by an unwelcome feeling of unease.

His father's words had left a deeper impression on him than he had thought at first and he found himself pondering them frequently. He was painfully aware that he knew almost nothing of the world of men and concepts like mortality were hard for him to grasp. However, the fact that Aragorn behaved very much like an elf – at least in his presence – made it much too easy to forget about this matters.

Until now, he had pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind quite successfully, enjoying the time he was able to share with Aragorn and evading the choices he knew he would have to make. Still, he knew that Aragorn as chieftain of the Dúnedain was also part of the world of men and that, was he to take the throne of Gondor, Aragorn would have to leave behind the world of elves completely, leaving Legolas to join him or to leave for Valinor with his people.

Of course, after Aragorn's death he would still be free to go to Valinor, although he could hardly imagine that he would then have the strength to build a ship and sail, thinking it much more likely that he would fade away and enter the Halls of Mandos. Both would allow him to rejoin his people, but at the same time he would be damned to spend eternity alone, for after death men went to places unknown to the elves.

He could not deny that a tiny part of him hoped that Aragorn might be granted to board a ship at the end of his life and leave for Valinor together with him, like Idril and Tuor were of old. However, in his heart he felt that Aragorn was bound to the world of men and would not be granted access to Valinor and that he himself would have to see his decision through to the end to find his happiness, otherwise he would be torn forever. So, should he choose to bind with Aragorn he would be left to beg the Valar to grant him the grace they had granted Lúthien Tinúviel of letting him die like a mortal man.

These thoughts kept nagging at him at the back of his head recently more persistently than before and were cause for expressing his wish to see the world of men in his letter to Aragorn the previous year. He knew that for Aragorn the 20 years they had been in love now were not a short period of time and that they would have to make a commitment at one point or part their ways.

Both of them had evaded discussing their future, not wanting to tint their often short and infrequent meetings with anxiety and the looming possibility of the other deciding against their often impossible seeming relationship. He knew that he was not the ideal partner to choose for Aragorn either, as the potential future king of Gondor would probably best marry a women of his own kind, who would be accepted much more easily by his people and have much less trouble to provide him with the heir the king was going to need.

* * *

Aragorn was finally drawing close to the Mirkwood. He was tired from the long travel, but anxious to see Legolas he had ridden hard. Fortunately, the journey had been rather quiet; he was used to travelling through Mirkwood by now and had been spared from any encounters with the giant spiders.

He looked out for elves keeping watch, as it was almost impossible to find the entrance to the dwelling by oneself, even by him, who had been visiting the realm already a number of times. And it was unwise to leave the main paths in order to look for the entrance oneself.

He knew of the habit of the Mirkwood elves not to show themselves – expect to other elves – but he hoped that Legolas had given orders to receive him, as he had done in the past years, praying that the king had not forbidden his visit – it would not surprise him after the rather cold welcome he had been given the last time.

After a short while an elf dropped down next to him suddenly, his bow drawn. "State your name and business" he demanded in rather broken Westron. "I am known as the Dúnadan", Aragorn answered in Sindarin. "Then you are expected by the young prince." The elf replied likewise in Sindarin and turned without introducing himself, leaving Aragorn to follow him. The rustling of the leaves told him that high in the trees more elves were following them.

After leading his horse to the stables, the elf bid him to follow him directly to the training grounds on which he could discern Legolas already from a distance. He was sparring with a training partner, using his knife, his slender body moving swiftly and gracefully. His pulse quickened as he watched Legolas, hardly able to believe that the moment of their reunion had finally come after more than two years of separation.

Just as they reached the training grounds, Legolas won the fight, setting his knife to the throat of his sparring partner. He then turned to see who had arrived, his fair face flushed with excitement from the fight. He eyes widened when he realized that Aragorn was standing there and his face lit up in a smile. He sheathed his knife and walked slowly towards him, though it seemed to Aragorn as if he needed all his composure not to run towards him. They clasped each other's arms and Legolas said politely: "Let me show you to your room". He led the way towards the room Aragorn usually occupied during his stays, leaving the guard who had accompanied Aragorn behind.

When the door had closed and Aragorn had put his backpack down, they stood in front of each other, suddenly uncertain, feeling slightly estranged after the long separation. Aragorn took in Legolas' fair face, unchanged as always in its ethereal beauty. He knew that he himself had aged during the past two years, the life in the wilderness taking its toll. Suddenly he felt afraid that Legolas' love for him, which often felt to Aragorn like a wonderful, but irrational dream, might have waned during the past years, that it was gone. Then Legolas quickly crossed the distance between them, taking Aragorn's hand with his slender fingers, bringing it to his lips, and the awkward moment was gone, they were holding and kissing each other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: **As you probably have realized by now, this story contains slash, so please hit the back button now in case you disapprove.

**Disclaimer:** Obviously, the universe and the characters belong to Tolkien and I am only borrowing them for fun.

**A/N:** Thanks a lot for your reviews, they made me very, very happy! I corrected the mistake in the first chapter you pointed out, babschwi, thank you! Well then, on with the story :)

Aragorn and Legolas left for Esgaroth already the next day. It was not the first time for them to travel together, for they had travelled from Rivendell to Mirkwood or the other way round together a number of times, but more often – and especially in recent years – one of them had to farewell the other one who was leaving, making departing together a welcome change.

They had about a weeks' travel before them and the days passed peacefully and untroubled by attacks of orcs or other foul creatures, allowing both of them to get used to each other again.

* * *

Aragorn felt slightly apprehensive about taking Legolas to Esgaroth, even if he did his best to hide his feelings. He remembered very well the first time he had travelled to a dwelling of men in the company of his foster brothers and the disgust he had felt about the dirt, the lack of grace and the sometimes crude and, as he felt, undignified forms of living in comparison to fair Rivendell. He had finally come to accept men as they were and also that he was one of them. This had, however, taken him some time and he wondered how Legolas would take it.

Still, Legolas' lack of familiarity with the world of men worried him even more, as he felt how deeply this impacted their relationship. He supposed that Legolas felt the same as he had expressed the wish to see a dwelling of men once in a letter in the past year. Therefore, he had decided that it would be best to take him along to Esgaroth if his father allowed, for the people of this city were quite familiar with elves already and would hopefully not react too strongly to seeing his elven companion, compared to other dwellings of men.

What worried him as well was that folk there did not approve of relationships between two males and he had relayed this to Legolas, cautioning him about taking his hand or kissing him in public, even though this was also not acceptable among the elves for unmarried couples and therefore highly unlikely. Legolas had seemed very much taken aback, as no such prejudice existed in the elven society, and also deeply troubled.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Legolas asked who had watched Aragorn growing more and more uneasy over the past hours.

"Yes, you forget I am a ranger. I do not lose my way." Aragorn replied gruffly, startled out of his thoughts.

"I may not be a ranger, but an elf and I am quite sure that I have greeted this tree over there already three times. He is wondering what we are doing." Legolas said, trying to suppress the mirth in his voice. He knew that Aragorn had travelled to Esgaroth only once before and he did not find any shame in wondering about the right direction. "It will soon grow dark, let us rest and continue our way in the morning," he suggested gently. "I will climb a tree and look out for our way."

Aragorn gave in and he climbed the tree swiftly, and reaching the tree top, he distantly was able to make out a dwelling. He supposed that it should take them a good day's ride to reach it.

He climbed back down, finding that Aragorn had already started a fire. He was sitting in front of it silently. Darkness was falling fast and his face was lying in deep shadows, partly alighted by the fire. Legolas knelt down behind him, placing his hands on Aragorn's broad shoulders and working to ease his tense muscles with deft hands. He knew how much Aragorn enjoyed this and hoped to lighten up the mood a little, as he – and judging by his conduct, Aragorn as well – had a strange feeling of foreboding.

Finally he leaned forward, embracing Aragorn gently from behind.

"Thank you," Aragorn murmured, turning and pulling Legolas in an almost bone crashing embrace. Then he continued silently, his face buried in Legolas' hair: "You were right."

"About what?" Legolas replied, withholding a smile. He knew quite well what Aragorn was referring to. "You were right about the way. I was not paying proper attention and had lost it. I am sorry."

"Well then, you shall be punished for lying," Legolas said in his most serious voice, while his hands travelled down Aragorn's waist as light as a feather.

Aragorn gasped, only barely holding back a cry of surprise as Legolas began to tickle him mercilessly. The tickling quickly turned into wrestling, each one of them trying to get the upper hand. Finally Legolas found himself pinned to the ground, both of them out of breath and laughing.

He considered taking up the fight once more – while they were well matched in strength and Aragorn's additional weight worked to his advantage, he also tired more easily – but then he was distracted when he caught the look in Aragorn's face, who was gazing down at him tenderly. Aragorn bent down and kissed Legolas gently, who returned the quickly deepening kiss, welcoming Aragorn into his embrace, all thoughts of winning the fight forgotten.

* * *

Drawing closer to the city of Esgaroth, Legolas regarded the large dwelling with surprise. While Rivendell and Mirkwood were two of the three largest elven dwellings still left in Middle Earth, this city of men was at least comparable in size and he had a feeling that it was not the only one. Never before had he felt so strongly that the age of elves was coming to an end and the age of men was dawning. He felt Aragorn's eyes resting on him.

"It is quite a big city, is it not?" Legolas asked, wondering whether Aragorn felt the same.

"Yes, it is one of the bigger cities, but you have not seen Gondor yet." So Esgaroth was not even the biggest one, Legolas marveled.

Then his attention was drawn to something else. "Is it common for Men to live upon the water?" Legolas asked, referring to the way the wooden city was built upon pillars in the lake.

Aragorn pondered this. "No, I think this is the only dwelling build on water. I think it makes them feel safe. The city even has been rebuilt upon the water after it was burned down by Smaug."

Feel safe on the water, what a foreign idea that was indeed, thought Legolas. He felt safest when he was sitting in a tree, "Do you also feel safe on water?" he inquired, suddenly curious.

Aragorn laughed. "No, I can assure you, I rather stand on steady ground. And I would also prefer living in a tree to living on top of the water." He added slyly, clearly having guessed Legolas' thoughts. Legolas laughed, feeling content that Aragorn knew him so well, and they rode on.

* * *

The sun was already low when they reached the city.

Aragorn asked an old man who was sitting in front of his house, enjoying the last rays of sunlight, whether he could point them to the closest inn and the man gave them directions to a small inn in a nearby street. "If you're not afraid of ghosts, that is, young masters," he said laughing good-naturedly. "Folk say the house is haunted and they've trouble finding guests. I can also point you to a different inn, further in town, there are many of them."

Aragorn laughed. He felt sure that this was only superstitious talk. "This is alright, thank you very much. We are not afraid of ghosts."

When they rode on Legolas turned to him, smiling slightly: "No indeed, the ghosts of men hold no fear for me. But what about you?"

"Do you honestly believe that we will encounter ghosts there?" he replied surprised.

"Most superstitions are rooted in truth, are they not? I believe we will encounter something and I am most curious what it is."

After a while, they reached the inn, which from the outside did not look like a haunted house at all – but after all the city had recently been rebuilt and there were few old-looking houses to be found. They dismounted and left their horses outside at first, entering to inquire whether there was still some room left in the inn.

"Good evening, young masters, how can I help you?" the inn keeper inquired.

"We are looking for a room for the night." Aragorn replied.

"Yes, of course, there's…" the inn keeper broke off, his expression changing from friendliness to fear, as he watched Legolas apprehensively. Legolas had taken off the hood he had been wearing since they had entered the town on Aragorn's recommendation in order not to draw too much unwanted attention to him, and was looking around curiously.

"I'm afraid there's only one room with a double bed left, master, I suppose this wouldn't suffice for you and your companion?" the inn keeper continued, sounding quite hopeful.

"It is already late and we would be grateful if you would let us stay for the night", Aragorn replied, frowning slightly upon the way the man behaved towards his elven companion. Clearly unwilling, but realizing that he could not very well turn them away, the man showed them to their room and indicated the way to the stable. He told them grudgingly that they could get some water downstairs in case they were thirsty in the night and inquired whether they wanted to take their dinner upstairs or downstairs.

They took their dinner downstairs, hoping to get a picture of the people in town; however, the lack of other guests made them feel clearly that the man had lied to them. Their room most certainly was not the only one empty.

And while Aragorn was quite pleased at how easily they had gotten a shared room – he had already thought of several ways to explain why they would want only one room – he felt uneasy about the hostile way Legolas had been greeted. It was important to him that Legolas felt welcome into the world of men and this was not a good start. He was feeling tired, the long day was getting to him and they called an early night.

* * *

In the middle of the night Legolas opened his eyes, feeling wide awake. Next to him, Aragorn was fast asleep. His sharp hearing picked up the sounds of the wooden house, wood worms working in the walls. Everyone in the house seemed to be asleep.

He had never experienced anything alike, the elven dwellings of Mirkwood and Rivendell being throughout the night alive with song and laughter of the elves who needed much less and a different kind of sleep than mortals did. While travelling, there was always need for a watch, neither allowing nor requiring one to sleep through a complete night. And of course, there was always the possibility of communicating with nature. Now, however, he was slightly at a loss.

He got up silently, careful not to wake Aragorn and stood at the window, gazing outside. The houses and streets made of dead wood and stone, surrounded by water, offered little comfort and he decided to go downstairs and get himself some water, remembering the offer of their host.

He was barefoot and only wearing his white sleeping shirt, which reached over his knees, his hair was unbraided and flowing freely down his back, but he was certain that no one was awake and he would encounter no one. Aragorn had laughed when he had seen that he had brought clothes to sleep in, himself preferring to simply sleep in his leggings he also wore during the day, but Legolas, while content to sleep in the clothes he wore at daytime when travelling, could see no reason to continue the uncomfortable habit when he did not need to anticipate having to pack his things and flee any moment as he had to in the wilderness.

He silently left the room and descended the stairs, his bare feet making no sound on the wooden floor. He located the small sitting room the inn keeper had indicated where a fire was burning low during the night. He had brought no candle, his elven sight enabling him to see through the darkness, so that his eyes had to adjust for a moment when he entered the room in which the fire burned.

In this moment a scream sounded, ringing in his ears. It probably did not sound too loud to human ears, though, as there were no movements to be heard upstairs, indicating that no one had woken. He turned, trying to locate the sound and was astonished when he found an old women sitting in a rocking chair close to the door. She stared at him in horror.

Cautiously, he approached her, saying: "Grandmother, I apologize if I startled you, I merely came to get a drink of water as our host suggested so kindly last night."

She blinked and stuttered, still clearly frightened: "But…you're not…her?" She reached out for his hand tentatively and after touching it lightly, gripped his hand tightly.

"Grandmother, please calm down, I am not who you seem to believe me to be. I am an Elf", he replied, surprised at her strange behavior.

"But so was she, so was she, Master Elf," the old women answered, suddenly cackling madly.

"Who is she?" he asked, an uncanny feeling gripping him. But the old women did not reply. For a moment he was afraid that she might be dead, but then he realized that she was snoring softly, her head nodding to the side. She was still gripping his hand. He carefully detached himself, feeling her wrinkled skin which felt almost like paper to his touch.

Suddenly he was reminded of how every time he and Aragorn met again after a period of separation, he noticed the small wrinkles which had engraved themselves in the meanwhile on Aragorn's skin, like small messengers of death and a completely irrational fear told hold of him that he would find Aragorn like this upon his return, withered or even dead.

Quickly he left the room again and went upstairs, as silently as he had come. He entered their room and found Aragorn still fast asleep, looking just as he always did. He lay down again next to him and Aragorn, feeling his presence, took his hand without waking and pulled him close. Listening to Aragorn's deep, regular breathing, he calmed down and finally was lulled into a light slumber. He did not notice the white figure standing at the window, watching the pair all night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning:** Slash as always ;)

**Disclaimer:** Obviously, the universe and the characters belong to Tolkien and I am only borrowing them for fun.

**A/N: **I realized that I didn't ask for feedback last chapter, so maybe that's why I didn't get any? ;) Well, it would be wonderful to know whether you hate or like where the story is going, find it incredibly boring, weird or whatever :) By the way, regarding the matters of marriage and sex in elven society I was inspired a little by Tyella's great essays.

When Aragorn woke the next morning, Legolas was already up, standing in front of a small mirror hanging close to the window, fully dressed and braiding his hair.

He turned and smiled at Aragorn. "Good morning, did you sleep well?"

"Very well, thank you. I have to admit that I fell asleep immediately and never got any chance to relish the fact that I slept next to you in a bed for the very first time", Aragorn laughed.

He got up, quickly approached Legolas and embraced him from behind, burying his face in Legolas' long hair and inhaling his scent. Legolas relaxed in his embrace, but did not seem completely at ease, he noted, attributing it to the rather cold welcome they had experienced yesterday. He looked up and their eyes locked in the mirror.

"The meeting with the rangers is only due in three days' time, let us go and look for another inn to stay today", he offered.

Legolas turned in the embrace, now facing him. "No."

Legolas' answer surprised him to no small extent. "Why not? We do not seem to be welcome here..," Aragorn trailed off when he saw the look on his face.

"You mean I am not welcome here. Still, I wish to stay. There is something strange about this house…" Legolas relayed the events of the previous night to Aragorn.

"Do you not think that the old woman might simply be mad?" Aragorn finally said.

"Oh, I do believe that she is not quite right in her mind. However, there must be a reason why she was so scared. It is not because I am an elf; she was content to fall asleep again when she found that I was not the person she thought me to be. I need to know what happened here. Please, Aragorn, let us stay." Legolas insisted, looking up into Aragorn's eyes.

"Well, if it is so important to you, we will stay. I suppose I am the lucky fellow who gets to tell the inn keeper that we would like to stay here for several nights?"

"Correct." Legolas smiled. Aragorn sighed, running his hand through his hair in a futile attempt to make it look a little tidier.

"Shall I brush it for you?" Legolas offered, who was watching the procedure concerned. Aragorn was taken aback. "Brush it? Surely that is a little exaggerated?"

* * *

The inn keeper had certainly not been happy when Aragorn inquired whether they could stay a little longer, claiming that no rooms were free in the following nights. When Aragorn offered to pay a higher fee per night, he finally gave in. The ghost stories people told about his house were clearly driving away the guests and he needed the money. Aragorn decided that he would rather not approach the inn keeper about the crazy old women today if they actually wanted to stay.

He fetched Legolas from their room – where he was tackled in a moment of inattention from behind with a hair brush – and they left to explore the town.

* * *

When evening dawned, they went into a small tavern to take their evening meal. In general Aragorn had been surprised throughout the day that Legolas was drawing so little attention from the people in town, quite contrary to what they had experienced in the small inn they were staying at, but it made sense, as the people should be at least used to elves to a certain extent, being not only engaged in trade with the Mirkwood elves, but also having fought side by side with them in the battle of the five armies.

He was humming to himself contentedly. He had gotten his revenge on Legolas for brushing his hair by grabbing him suddenly when they were in a deserted side street and kissing him, and, by distracting him thus, running his hands through Legolas' long hair and braids and messing it up. Annoyed, Legolas had untied his tangled braids, so that his hair was now flowing freely down his back. At the moment, he was still throwing angry looks at Aragorn, who chuckled and ignored him.

The people in the tavern they took their evening meal in as well paid them no attention at all and they ate their meal in silence. Legolas finally resumed talking to Aragorn, however, Aragorn was unsure whether he was forgiven or the incident was merely forgotten due to the rather high amount of wine Legolas had consumed.

When Aragorn called for more wine for the probably tenth time, the inn keeper said to Aragorn, looking at Legolas, whose face was only slightly flushed in spite of the two litres of wine he had already drunk, with surprise: "Your wife can hold her liquor rather well, young master!" Aragorn blinked confused, trying to grasp what the inn keeper was talking about. When he caught the incredulous look on Legolas' face, the meaning sunk in and he started to laugh. The inn keeper looked from one to the other. "Oh, the fair young lady is not your wife? I ask for discretion then, we're a respectable inn."

"Please worry not, everything is in order," Aragorn managed to say with difficulty, trying to suppress his laughter. The inn keeper nodded contentedly and walked away again.

"Aragorn, please tell me that this man did not think me to be a woman," Legolas demanded, the incredulous expression still firmly in place.

"I am most afraid so, my dearest Legolas." Aragorn replied, trying very hard to stop laughing.

"This is entirely your fault. Because of your silliness I had to undo my braids!" Legolas complained.

Aragorn had to admit that he was probably right. The people here would certainly not know in what way Legolas' braids represented his status as a warrior, but his open long hair was hiding his pointed ears, probably leading most people to believe that he was human. And should he be human, it was easy to believe him to be female with his delicate features and fair long hair. The cloak he was wearing gave the crowning blow as it hid the form of his body and probably would also be considered a proper piece of clothing for women, for it almost reached the ground and hid whatever clothes were worn beneath.

Believing an elf to be human was an easy mistake to make, even for one who had grown up among the firstborn like him. He himself had thought his foster sister Arwen to be a human maiden the first time he saw her until he noticed the life of the eldar shining in her eyes – something men in general did not recognize easily.

He took Legolas' hand. "All right, I am sorry." Legolas smiled at him and this time he knew he was forgiven. They resumed drinking and Aragorn started to feel tipsy himself. He had drunk less than a third of the amount Legolas had consumed, but he would never dare try and keep up when he was drinking with an elf – Legolas would have to carry him home and that would not go well with Aragorn's pride.

A fiddler started to play a light tune and around them people started to dance, a fast, lively three-four time rhythm. Legolas' face lit up, like all elves he loved few things more than music and dance. "Do you know this dance? It looks funny, completely different from our dances." He inquired, looking around excitedly.

"It is called waltz and is usually danced in places like here... I think it is considered impropriate at court due to the close contact between the dancers, though it is becoming more and more popular," Aragorn recalled with difficulty, as dancing was not his very favorite past time. The dance was quite simple, requiring couples of two people, the female part laying her hands on her partner's shoulders or clasping his left hand and laying her arm on his right shoulder, who twirled her around, quite contrary to the slow, dignified group dances at court and the complicated dances of the elves, which defined no special male or female part.

"Can you dance it?" Legolas asked. "Yes, but two male persons cannot dance it together", Aragorn replied secretly relieved, guessing what Legolas was aiming at.

"Oh, is that so?" Legolas sounded disappointed.

"You are free to ask to dance any lady you like," Aragorn laughed.

"No, I cannot ask someone for a dance I have never danced myself – and I am afraid they would also mistake me for a lady as long as I have not braided my hair." Legolas pondered. Then his face brightened. "They think I am a lady! This means I can dance with you!"

"I beg your pardon?" Aragorn replied taken aback. Legolas was obviously more drunk than he had thought. Legolas got to his feet and pulled Aragorn with him unceremoniously to the dance floor.

Aragorn sighed and surrendered. "Put your left hand on my shoulder", he instructed, clasping Legolas' right hand with his left. He started twirling the lithe elf around, Legolas gracefully adjusting to the unknown steps with ease. Aragorn had never been an eager dancer and the wine made it difficult for him not to miss a step, but seeing Legolas' face, alight with happiness, more than compensated him for these shortcomings.

* * *

They returned to the inn they stayed in quite late, both more than tipsy, laughing over next to nothing. Sitting on the bed, Aragorn watched Legolas change into his nightshirt and brush his long hair. He looked ridiculously young in the white shirt, Aragorn thought, like a youth who had barely outgrown childhood, and felt suddenly a strong surge of protectiveness towards to the elf tenfold his age. How could he even think of asking him to marry him, damning him to sorrow and probably death?

Legolas climbed into bed next to him. "What is it?" he asked, concerned.

Aragorn shook his head. "It is nothing." He gently brushed a stray strand of hair out of Legolas' face, who looked up to him with slightly glazed eyes, his face flushed from the wine. Legolas equally lifted a hand, gently trailing Aragorn's beard and then leaned in to kiss him. Aragorn soon responded, his hands finding their way under the long shirt.

In this night, both found it very hard to contain themselves in their drunken state, but elven law linked love making and marriage inseparably and this was a border they did not dare to overstep yet.

Finally they fell asleep, holding each other.

* * *

Legolas woke in the middle of the night, just like the night before. He sat up and looked around him. Then he noticed that he was not in the small room in the inn in Esgaroth, but in a luxuriously decorated room. Aragorn was still lying beside him, sleeping with his back to him, wrapped completely in his blanket so that he could hardly see him.

He looked around, confused. Somehow, he was certain that he was in Gondor now, though he had never seen the city before. How had he come here so suddenly? Then his eyes fell onto his hands on the blanket. He started and raised them closer to his eyes. They were withered and wasted away, looking exactly like the hands of the old women who had taken hold of him last night.

Frantic, he turned to Aragorn for support. But when he pulled away the blanket, he saw that Aragorn's hair was snow-white. Aragorn showed no reaction and growing fearful, he turned him around.

He stared into rotting flesh on a grinning skull, all that was left of Aragorn's face. He screamed, the world around him falling apart, leaving him in black nothingness.

* * *

Legolas' scream woke Aragorn. He turned quickly to find out what ailed his companion and found Legolas with tightly closed eyes, tears running over his face, trembling so hard that Aragorn had difficulty to gather him into his arms and hold him close. He stroked his back soothingly, murmuring softly to him and finally shaking him gently, but Legolas seemed to be unable to find back out of the labyrinth his dream was holding him prisoner in.

Finally Legolas started to wake, however the tears did not stop to flow and the trembling did not cease, Aragorn merely noticed his returning consciousness by the hands trailing his face and burying themselves in his hair and the desperate attempt to move even closer into the embrace. Whenever Aragorn tried to inquire what had happened, he simply shook his head frantically.

After what seemed like hours, he finally calmed down a little and seemed to fall into a light sleep. Aragorn continued to hold him.

Suddenly feeling that they were being watched, Aragorn opened his eyes. Next to the window, a pearly white transparent figure was standing. It looked like a young maiden with waist long hair, wearing a long dress. He blinked and when he looked again, the figure was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thanks a lot for reviewing! :) Again, I am very grateful for any feedback, be it positive or negative :)

When Legolas woke again, he felt disoriented and dizzy. His head was resting against Aragorn's bare chest and Aragorn's arms were wrapped tightly around him.

Slowly, everything came back to him. The horrible experience of finding Aragorn dead and himself withered with old age, finally finding his way back out of the darkness, realizing that he was lying in Aragorn's arms and that everything had only been a dream. Except that he had never had a dream like this, he normally was able to decide himself on which paths his mind wandered during the night. Had it been a vision? But he was not even able to age, even if he faded away after Aragorn's death his body would not change. Was it maybe a warning of staying with Aragorn?

He shook his head and concentrated on listening to Aragorn's steadily beating heart. He could not tell Aragorn what he had dreamt about. He knew that Aragorn already was concerned about his mortality bringing grief to Legolas, he could not add to that weight by relaying this horrible dream to him.

* * *

Legolas expressed the wish to ride outside of the city, feeling the need to connect to trees and other living creatures. Aragorn concurred, deeply worried about the elf, who would not tell him what had ailed him last night. He told Legolas about the white figure he had seen and voiced his suspicion that the house was indeed haunted and that the spirits were affecting him in some way.

"Let us leave this inn and stay at another place tonight," Aragorn pleaded.

"But why would a spirit affect most strongly me, an elf, of all people in this house?" Legolas argued. "It makes no sense. Why would it not affect you, being human, more than me? I am not running away like a coward, there is something about this place and I want to know what it is."

So, they had asked the inn keeper about the old woman Legolas had encountered the night before. As was to be expected, he claimed that she was crazy and that he could not explain to himself why she would mistake Legolas for anyone else, having never seen anyone who looked like him. But he did not look comfortable when he told them this and kept glancing wearily at Legolas.

They gave up for now and made their way out of the city. Legolas felt his spirits rise, when he was among trees again; he had not realized how dearly he had missed their presence.

Back on steady ground, in some distance to the entrance to the city, he noticed a parcel of land, encircled by high walls overgrown with ivy. The place looked very old; it clearly had not been destroyed by Smaug. Getting curious, Legolas drew closer.

"What is this?" he questioned, looking at Aragorn.

"It is a graveyard, I believe." Aragorn said.

"A graveyard?"

"Yes, it is where the people of Esgaroth bury their dead."

"Oh, I see…" Legolas said softly. Of course, there was need for a place to bury and remember the dead if they died on a regular basis, he thought. Elves did not have graveyards; in the rare cases an elf died, the body was burned and the ashes allowed to fly free. Suddenly, remembering the dream from last night he wondered whether his body would also one day lie in such a place and he shuddered. He could feel Aragorn watch him concernedly and pulled himself together.

"Can we have a look at it?" he asked.

"Are you certain?" Aragorn replied, surprised at the sudden morbid desire of his beloved.

Instead of a reply, Legolas dismounted and Aragorn followed suit. They entered the graveyard, Legolas bidding their horses to wait for them outside. They walked silently past the graves, Legolas completely overwhelmed by their sheer number.

"How can you go on, when you know with certainty that one day you will die?" he said quietly. Then, realizing what thought he had spoken out loud he paled and whispered, "I am sorry. Forget what I said."

But Aragorn shook his head, pondering his words. "Growing up among elves, I have asked myself that as well for a long time," he replied after a pause. "But then I realized that mortality is also a gift. Knowing each day that my time here is limited makes each moment more valuable to me. And although I do not know what will happen after death I am not afraid of finding out."

Legolas thought about his words, the memory of a friend who had left for Valinor some years ago coming back to him. "I think I can understand that. The time of the elves will soon be over in Middle Earth and the elves are leaving its shores. In the end it is the same I think, although the elves know what awaits them after they have left." Aragorn smiled, slightly astonished, but pleased about the understanding the elf showed towards matters of mortal death and pulled Legolas close into a gentle kiss.

When they raised their heads again, both' eyes fell upon a small grave with a white stone. Legolas started. "It says 'Nimrodel' on the stone," he stated confused. "Is this a common name amongst men?"

"No, it is quite rare for men to give their children elven names. Only the dunedain still practice it."

"It is also a rare name among the elves," Legolas said "Although there was a maiden named Nimrodel in Mirkwood. Her family was kin to Nimrodel of Lorien, who vanished – the one the song talks about – and they named her thus in remembrance of her. However, they regretted it dearly, for she as well disappeared about one hundred years ago. I do not think anyone will dare to name their child thus ever again. She had not even reached her majority when she vanished; she would have turned one hundred years old the following year…"

Aragorn went closer to inspect the small stone. "The death date lies back about one hundred years ago, but there is no birth date on the stone. This is most strange." Aragorn could not find any further signs as to who had erected the stone. However, looking around they found a family grave next to the small stone, bearing the name of the inn they were staying at.

* * *

They returned in the evening, both still wondering about the gravestone with the elven name.

They took their evening meal downstairs, hoping to get some more information. And indeed, they were lucky. They were only few guests, all of them not very talkative and soon they were the only people left.

A little girl with dark blonde braids curiously peeked into the room and tentatively made her way in, when Legolas smiled at her. "Do you live here?" he inquired kindly.

"Yes, this inn belongs to my father," she answered watching him with big curious eyes.

"Are you an elf?"

"Yes", he replied smiling.

"How old are you?" she asked. "I've heard elves can become very old."

"I am very old," Legolas confirmed vaguely. "How old are you, little one?"

"I am already five!" she proclaimed proudly, but persisted "How old are you exactly?"

"I am over 500 years old," he replied. Aragorn chuckled, as this statement was hardly more exact than the first, but the little girl seemed not to notice.

"Oh but that's much older than my grandfather was when he died of old age last year! Do you not die?" she continued, clearly not quite satisfied.

"Elves do not die usually," Legolas explained, trying not to look disturbed at the child's odd question.

"But the beautiful lady here in the house, she is a ghost and so she must be dead!"

"Oh, so you have seen her? And you think she is an elf?" Legolas questioned, sharing a look with Aragorn.

"It is a pretty lady and she looks a little bit like you, master elf. She is very sad. And also very angry."

"Do you know why she is sad and angry?" he replied.

"No, she does not speak." Then she suddenly leaned closer to him, whispering "I think grandmother and father know, but they won't tell me."

"I see," Legolas smiled at her. "So, you are not afraid of her?"

"No. But all the grown up people seem to be afraid of her…are you?"

"I do not know," Legolas said thoughtfully. "I have not met her yet, but I intend to meet her tonight."

The little girl was called from outside and told to go to sleep. She smiled and said before she left: "Please tell her I said hello."

* * *

They went to bed soon. In search of his nightshirt, Legolas opened random drawers and, encountering a neatly folded white piece of fabric thought a second he had found it. Upon touching the cloth, however, he found how mistaken he was. He took it out carefully and unfolded it. "What is this?" he exclaimed surprised, catching Aragorn's attention.

Aragorn turned towards him and was surprised to find Legolas holding up a long beautiful white dress worthy of any elven princess. "It is made of silk and embroidered by the elves, that much I can tell – indeed, if I am not very mistaken, this is a dress an elven maiden would wear at her marriage ceremony," Legolas wondered.

"Why would such a piece of clothing be here?" Aragorn stood up to examine the dress as well. "This is most strange. Someone must have forgotten it."

"Who would forget an elven wedding dress in a place like this?" Legolas shook his head. "There must be something else to it."

Aragorn's hand found Legolas', gripping it tightly. "What," he said "if the ghost is indeed not the ghost of a human, but the ghost of an elven maiden?"

* * *

"Aragorn, you go to sleep. It suffices if I stay awake. I do not need the sleep as you do." Legolas insisted for the tenth time. He was sitting up on the bed with his back to the wall, knees pulled up and arms wrapped around them. His jaw was set and his eyes told Aragorn that he would not yield.

Aragorn sighed. "Alright, I will do as you ask me. I trust you will wake me in case anything happens?" Legolas nodded and bent down to kiss him goodnight. He blew out the candle and Aragorn shifted to a more comfortable position, while Legolas continued to sit up in bed next to him in the almost fetal position he had assumed, as if he tried very hard to protect himself from something.

Aragorn had a hard time to find sleep this night. He was feeling quite uneasy already and the fact that Legolas was insisting on staying up alone during the night did nothing to calm him either. Legolas' hand found his and squeezed it gently and he finally fell asleep.

This night, however, they remained undisturbed.

* * *

The following day they still were determined to solve the riddle of the ghost in the little inn. They explored the town further, whereas Aragorn found to his amusement that Legolas took great care to do his braids and dress into his tunic and breeches, making sure to show off his weapons and not to wear anything that could identify him as not male.

They came back early in the evening, hoping to get more information on the maiden's ghost. The inn keeper seemed to be out this evening and only a maid tended to the guests, who claimed to be newly employed and know nothing at all. Soon they were once again the only people left and made to go upstairs into their room when suddenly the door opened and an old woman came in who Legolas recognized as the one he had encountered two nights ago.

She was carrying the white dress they had found in their room with her, waiving it like a flag and cackling madly. "I found the dress when I cleaned your room, master elf; some elvish devilry must have brought it there. It keeps following us everywhere, but maybe you can take it away from us? Even as the city burned down, the wedding dress she never wore was unscathed by the flames. We left it, but soon found it lying in our new home. Since then we tried to get rid of it several times, but it kept coming back over and over again." She dropped the dress on Legolas' lap unceremoniously and left the room still laughing, leaving them in a stunned silence.

"I suppose it will do no good if we follow her and question her further…" Aragorn said, looking at the door which had swung shut behind her rather disbelieving. "She is utterly mad."

"I believe you are right. I will stay up tonight again and see whether I can meet and speak to the maiden's ghost," Legolas replied, lifting the dress of his lap and folding it neatly.

"I would like to stay up with you. Or instead of you," Aragorn offered, frowing. Legolas shook his head, smiling thankfully. "I will be fine, please trust me."

* * *

Legolas had been waiting for quite some time and began to wonder whether the ghost would stay away this night as well, as she had the previous night. He was holding Aragorn's hand, for his comfort as much as for Aragorn's who had clearly had difficulties to fall asleep again. He was feeling slightly guilty at causing his companion so much worry, but he wanted to face his fears alone – he had never been fearful and he did not like how the presence of the spirit seemed to affect him.

The room was very dark, but not too dark for him to see the shapes of the furniture. Suddenly the door opened and shut again with a thud. He started, letting go of Aragorn's hand and looked around. And then he saw her. A transparent figure was standing in front of the window, the moonlight illuminating her in an eerie way. And indeed, when he looked at her features closely, he recognized her. It was the elven maiden who had vanished from Mirkwood more than one hundred years ago. He shivered involuntarily as if cold. Anger was radiating from her. "Nimrodel?" he whispered. But she did not reply, maybe she was not able to communicate with him in that way. All she did was look at him sadly and shake her head as if in disapproval. Then he knew no more.

"I congratulate you on your marriage," Elladan said, looking from Legolas to Aragorn, who was smiling in utmost happiness. "As do I", his twin added. "Please do take good care of each other". Legolas looked around him in surprise. Was this a dream again, the same kind of dream as last night? But why did it seem so happy then?

Aragorn took his hand. "What is it Legolas? Are you not glad we are finally married?" He shook his head in wonder, staring down at Aragorn's calloused hand holding his. Why did everything seem so real? Hundreds of guests had gathered around him; he could hear their voices, feel their presence… He returned his attention to Elrohir and Elladan who were still standing in front of them. "Of course we do not want to keep you too long…," Elrohir said winking. "We will leave you alone then." They smiled suggestively and departed.

"Well, they are right, are they not? It is time." Aragorn smiled at him. "Time for what?" Legolas asked, still feeling disoriented. He felt Aragorn's hand on his lower back, guiding him towards the door. "Time for our wedding night, of course." Aragorn laughed. "What is the matter with you today, Legolas?"

- - - Several weeks passed and weeks became years. And Legolas noted Aragorn becoming more and more withdrawn and he felt hurt and worried and was uncertain what to do. Until one day, when Aragorn said to him "I love you no more, I am sorry," with an earnest face, looking apologetically. "I have taken a lover. She is the most beautiful maiden I have ever laid eyes upon and she will also be a much more adequate partner at my side once I am king. I believe it would be best if we parted our ways."

Legolas stared at him in disbelief. "But we cannot part as we are wed." He said, feeling like he was losing the ground beneath his feet. The world was spinning and he wished it would stop, trying to formulate a clear thought. "The elves do not allow it, this is true. But men can part their ways if they want," Aragorn said and with that he turned and left.

Legolas fell to his knees, suddenly feeling sick. His heart felt as if it would burst and he hugged his arms around himself, desperately trying to keep his chest from breaking open. He fell to his side and suddenly he realized what was happening. He heart was broken and so he was fading away. Finally, after what felt like an eternity in agony, everything went dark.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thanks a lot for reviewing gginsc! :) As always, I am very happy and grateful to know what to think, if you like or dislike where the story is going etc... :) Well, on with the story :)

"Legolas? Legolas, please wake!" Aragorn was slowly growing desperate. He had woken suddenly early in the morning and, feeling that something was amiss, had turned to Legolas. He found the elf lying next to him, eyes shut tight. This time he neither cried nor trembled, he almost looked as if all life had left him. His breathing was low and his pulse weak. He had been calling him and shaking him lightly for an hour now, completely unable to imagine what might have happened to his beloved. He berated himself for giving in and letting Legolas wait alone.

After waiting for another hour he finally noticed signs of Legolas waking. His pulse picked up a little speed and his pupils moved under his lids. Finally he opened his eyes. Aragorn smiled at him relieved, but Legolas's eyes widened when he saw him and he shied away from him, staring at him horrified.

"Legolas?" he asked tentatively, not daring to come nearer. "What is it?"

But Legolas simply shook his head and hid his face in his hands. Aragorn sat there, feeling at a loss.

* * *

Legolas tried to calm himself, to tell himself that all was naught but a dream. His heart was racing and he had trouble to shake off the horrible feeling of fading away. He wanted to run away from Aragorn and at the same time grab him and demand of him never to do anything to him like this.

"The hearts of men are fickle," it sounded in his head, a long forgotten warning he and the other children had been taught over and over again. But he had known Aragorn for over 20 years now, he knew that Aragorn was respecting and following the elvish customs often even more than those of men and that he was noble and true to his word. Still his heart refused to believe what his head told him. He felt horribly afraid.

After what felt like hours he calmed down slightly. What had happened? Had Nimrodel done this to him? But why should she? And most importantly, what was she doing in this house and why was she dead? He had never seen the ghost of an elf, had not even known that it was possible for elves to remain in this world as a spirit. He had been certain that they went straight into the Halls of Waiting after death.

He finally raised his head. "It is indeed the ghost of Nimrodel." He said, his voice sounding hoarse. "Have you spoken to her?" Aragorn asked quietly, but his eyes were searching Legolas' face for answers to a different question. "No, I do not think she can communicate in this way," Legolas replied, averting his eyes from Aragorn's gaze. "Let us confront the inn keeper. I need to know what happened to her."

* * *

Aragorn was supposed to meet with the rangers at noon in a tavern, so they still had some time left. They went downstairs to take their breakfast. Aragorn asked the inn keeper to sit with them and as there were no other guests, he seemed to be unable to find an excuse and finally stayed. He looked uncomfortable and tried to evade Legolas' hard gaze.

"So, what can I do for you?" the inn keeper asked, eyes trained on the table.

"Why is the ghost of an elven maiden haunting your house?" Legolas asked bluntly. "I saw her last night and I recognize her. She disappeared from our realm more than 100 years ago. Why is she dead?"

The inn keeper put his head into his hands and sighed. "I knew it'd get out one day. I knew it. But I tell you, we were punished enough, there're no guests coming to our inn anymore. They all got scared off when they saw her haunt the rooms at night and rumors have spread…"

"What did you know would get out?" Aragorn interrupted, seeing the man drift off the topic.

The inn keeper sighed and then looked both of them in the eyes for the first time. "My great-grandfather brought home an elven maiden one day, about one hundred years ago. They say she was beautiful, with long light hair and blue eyes, and she was fairer than everyone else in town. Very similar to you, master elf, I think that's why my mother mistook you for her ghost, when she saw you wandering around at night," he said, nodding to Legolas.

"Her name was Nimrodel. They lived together for some time in happiness, however, he didn't wed her, because his parents didn't approve. They said that there'd come no good of the bond and that it'd break before long, because they were much too different. And indeed, after some time they quarreled and finally he married and brought home another young lass, a human girl, who was my great-grandmother. She wasn't happy to come to a home where the lover of her husband lived, I can tell you.

Nimrodel, however, reacted most strangely. Upon hearing the news and being told to go back to her own people, she broke down and soon was too ill to go anywhere. She passed away within a week and all were very surprised, for they'd heard that elves neither fall ill nor die. She was buried in the graveyard out of town, but she didn't leave. Ever since then her ghost has haunted our house and none have ever come to happiness."

"Why have you not sent to the elves?" Legolas asked, his eyes flashing dangerously. "She has been missed for one hundred years! No one knew what had happened to her!"

"We did not know that!" The inn keeper defended himself. "I think it was discussed to send her body back to your kingdom when she died, but my ancestors were afraid of what the elven king might do to them. So they decided to keep it quiet and bury her in the graveyard."

"He killed her," Legolas said fiercely.

"I beg your pardon, master elf, he never raised a hand against her!" the inn keeper replied agitated.

"She must have faded from grief when your great-grandfather brought home another bride although she had given up her entire world for him!" Legolas retorted, his voice rising in anger.

"I am really sorry, master elf, but how should anyone know she would react that way? Was she your lover for you to get agitated like this?" The inn keeper was getting angry as well being accused thus.

"She was the only child born in our kingdom for the last 500 years. But how can men even begin to understand this… I will have to inform my king of what happened here." Legolas stood and left the room, leaving Aragorn behind who felt that the word 'men', which Legolas had almost spit out, addressed him as much as the inn keeper. He stood and slowly left the room, following Legolas upstairs, the terrified inn keeper still sitting at the table.

Even though Aragorn was angered as well about the elven maiden's fate, he felt there was more to Legolas' behavior than simply the shock about what had happened to poor Nimrodel. The incident must have some different, more personal meaning to Legolas, for while the elf was short-tempered, he was usually not unfair and threatening the inn-keeper because of what his great-grandfather had done was unlike him.

When he entered the room, Legolas was standing at the window with his back to him. Aragorn sighed, feeling suddenly as though a huge chasm separated them and not just the few steps between door and window.

"Legolas?" He wondered whether his voice had ever sounded so uncertain before. "I need to leave for the meeting with the rangers. Will you accompany me?"

Legolas turned and nodded briefly, gathering his bow and knifes, his hair falling forward, shielding his eyes.

Their way was silent, Aragorn searching for words, but everything he was able to think of sounded shallow. What could he say about the dead elven maiden he had not even known? And more and more he felt certain that this was not first and foremost what ailed his companion, but how to voice this suspicion without angering the elf even more?

* * *

Finally they arrived at the tavern, where the three rangers were already waiting for them. Aragorn introduced himself and Legolas – although they belonged to the Dúnedain he had never met them as they had been stationed here since many years – and started to explain his purpose.

As he had confided to Legolas after swearing him to secrecy, he and Mithrandir had been on the lookout for a wretched creature named Gollum for the past five years. However, bound by his word to Mithrandir he could not even tell Legolas why they were looking for the creature, he just impressed upon him that finding it was of utmost importance. Of the rangers now he inquired for sightings of a strange creature of indefinable origin, wretched and cunning who had according to Mithrandir's latest information been seen in this area. He asked the rangers to send for him or – in case they did not manage to contact him – for Legolas as soon as they heard about it or caught sight of it.

The rangers were merry people used to the presence of elves and both Legolas and Aragorn were glad to be among people for once who did not treat the elven prince as an otherworldly being. They sat together until night fell, exchanging tidings and while Legolas remained silent most of the time, Aragorn was glad to see him smile once or twice.

* * *

When they made their way home, however, silence fell between them once more.

Aragorn was relieved that they did not encounter the inn keeper when they came back, just the maid was there. They went up into their room and to Aragorn's dissappointment and increasing despair Legolas went once more to stand at the window, gazing outside in silence. Aragorn was left standing in the middle of the room and started to pace up and down, waiting for Legolas to say something or at least acknowledge his presence somehow.

Finally he felt he could not bear it anymore.

"Legolas?" he approached him cautiously, touching his shoulder and when he found that Legolas did not move away, he gently laid his arms around him.

"Legolas, you know I would never do something like that, do you not?" There was no reply.

"Do you not?" he asked again after many moments, his voice breaking. Feeling his distress, Legolas finally leaned into the embrace and buried his face in Aragorn's tunic.

"I do not know anything anymore I fear", was the slightly muffled reply. "I am sorry."

Aragorn was almost surprised when he felt tears run down his own face, falling onto Legolas' light hair. He had not cried in a long time. They stayed in the embrace for a long time and then, finally, Legolas began to tell him of the frightening dreams he had had in the past nights.

Aragorn held him tight and pondered his words for a long time, angered at what his beloved hat to endure the past nights and sad that he had not confided in him earlier.

"I cannot promise you that I will not die, for I will eventually." He said at last, finally speaking the words that had hovered between them so long, both afraid to voice them, yet now he did so he was almost surprised how easily and without any doubt they came to him. "But I can promise you that – should you decide to bind with me – I will neither leave nor betray you. I leave the decision to you, for my path is leading me away from the elves and will lead entirely into the world of men, should I ever become king. And to follow me on this path is something I cannot ask of you. Should you, however, still decide to do so, I promise you that I will cherish our bond and will let no obstacle come between us, even if men might not approve of our bond as much as I would like."

"Thank you." Legolas whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Sorry for the late update! I was busy with work and then sick and also a little lazy I guess... I'm sorry! I tried to make up for it by making this chapter a little longer, but it didn't really turn out much longer than usual... :D Thank you so much for your lovely reviews, Aralas and babschwi! :) In this chapter events take an a little unexpected turn I think, which I am a little unsure about myself, so please let me know what you think! I hope you don't hate it... :)

In this night Aragorn would not let himself be persuaded to sleep. Legolas had begged him to take the rest he knew his human companion needed every night, insisting that he could not protect him from what happened in his mind, neither awake nor asleep. But Aragorn would not give in, not now that he knew what Legolas awaited when the ghost's presence stole his consciousness.

So they sat in bed side by side silently for many hours, hands linked. Legolas drew comfort from Aragorn watching over him, even if he would not admit it, and his heart felt lighter than it had the past days.

He had been pondering Aragorn's words for the better part of the night. To his surprise he found, when his choices were laid before him so clearly by his beloved, that in truth there was no decision for him left to make at all, even if his head might tell him so, as his heart had already chosen his path a long time ago.

Still, his heart was not untroubled. He began to understand now that it was not making the choice which had troubled him, but the consequences of the choice he had already made. He had been afraid of getting to know Aragorn's world and what he had seen of it until now had estranged him further from it.

The slight clicking of the door startled him out of his thoughts and he felt Aragorn's arm encircle his waist and pull him tight as the door opened and shut again.

They stayed in a close embrace for many minutes and Aragorn began to think that nothing was going to happen. At once, however, Legolas started to tremble violently in his arms and when Aragorn was forced to watch helplessly as the elf's eyes closed and his body went limp, he had to realize that the elf had been right. He was not able to protect him.

Suddenly, Aragorn realized that Nimrodel's pale ghost was standing next to them. He raised his head and met her eyes. "Why must you torment us so?" he asked almost violently. "We have done nothing to you. Please leave him in peace." But she simply shook her head, almost helplessly it seemed, and went backwards, vanishing through the opening window.

Aragorn stayed awake until Legolas finally opened his eyes again. "What have you seen?" he inquired anxiously.

Legolas shook his head and tried to smile, failing miserably. "It is as if Nimrodel's presence makes me face my deepest fears – and some I did not even know I had."

* * *

When Aragorn opened his eyes the next day, he found, judging by the light which fell into the room through the window, that noon had already passed.

He then realized that Legolas was sitting in a chair next to the bed, watching him.

"Good morning," he said smiling.

"I suppose you should rather say 'Good day'," Aragorn replied dryly. "Why did you not wake me?"

"You were sleeping so peacefully," the elf answered. "I thought you lacked the sleep, waking every night because of me… Well, what do you want to do today?" he continued quickly, when he saw the man was going to protest.

"Legolas, shall we not leave for Mirkwood already today?" Aragorn suggested. After seeing Legolas lose his consciousness last night there was nothing he wanted as much as leaving this place and this city.

"I would rather stay a little longer," Legolas replied, averting his eyes to hide the doubt in them. He did not want to stay in this inn and in this city any more than Aragorn did. But somehow he felt that he was not allowed to leave yet, not until he had tried to make his peace with his beloved's people.

"Why do you want to stay here?" Aragorn inquired astonished. "I did not have the feeling that you particularly enjoy being here?"

Legolas sighed inwardly. How was he to explain to Aragorn how deeply he was troubled by the thought to have to live among his people one day? "I want to get the people living here a little better," he finally said.

Aragorn raised an eyebrow, but did not protest. "Are you still unwilling to look for another inn to stay at?" was all he asked.

Legolas chuckled. "How can you know me this well, my Estel?" he replied lightly, using his beloved's childhood name as an endearment. "I would feel bad to leave the poor restless soul alone as long as we are still in the city…" he continued softly.

Aragorn simply shook his head.

* * *

They walked through the city rather aimlessly. Aragorn was feeling a little as if an orc had hit him on the head as his sleeping time had been turned around entirely last night and he was not paying attention very well where they were going.

Suddenly they found that the scenery had changed, they had entered a very different part of the city they had not seen before. The houses were looking poor and worn and the streets were soiled. Rats were running around, chased occasionally by cats and the houses stood so narrowly that the roofs blocked the sunlight, making the streets very dark.

The streets were busy and loud, many people in poor looking dress pushing wagons and carriages and going about their business. Children in rags were running around and old or ill looking people were sitting at the side of the street, begging for money.

Aragorn did not stand out very much, his ranger attire dirty as usual and torn in many places, even though his weapons were of fine quality. But the fair elf in his fine clothes made of carefully embroidered elven fabric attracted attention immediately, some people shying away in awe while other, bolder people, came closer with outstretched hands, begging for money.

Aragorn saw Legolas' eyes widen in surprise as he took his surroundings in and then soften with pity as he saw the beggars sitting in the street. Among the elves, untouched by age or illness, and closely entwined with nature and its gifts, such poverty and misery was entirely unknown – as it had been to him until he left Rivendell for the first time and he could read in Legolas' face the very same distress he had been feeling then.

Moving closer to the elf he quickly steered them along the street, hoping to leave this area soon. They turned corner after corner and Legolas felt they had entered a maze which he would never be able to leave again, full of people whose pitiful existence made him almost feel guilty for his own undeserved immortality, health and strength.

They turned another corner and Aragorn cursed inwardly. This was the very last thing he had wanted his elven companion to witness. Along the side of the street women were lined up in much too light dress and much too heavy make-up.

"What is this? Why are those women standing there as if they were waiting for something?" Legolas asked confused as Aragorn led him along even more quickly than before. But before Aragorn could answer, he was interrupted by a rough voice.

"Master elf, what about this young lady?" Legolas turned in surprise at being addressed thus, facing a fat man who held a very young girl with curly brown hair by the arm. "It is her first night and I am looking for someone able to pay the price," he continued, grinning in a way Legolas could only describe as disgusting. Whilst speaking, he shoved the girl into Legolas' direction, who instinctively moved forward to catch the stumbling girl before she fell, but instead of thanking him, she shied away from his touch as fast as she could.

He turned to Aragorn rather helplessly. "What is this about, Aragorn?" he asked softly in Elvish.

"This place is a brothel." Aragorn hissed in Westron.

"A brothel?" Legolas repeated, his confusion lessening by no means.

"I do not think there is an Elvish word for this." Aragorn said, switching to Elvish. "It is a place where women – or sometimes men – give their body to men for money," he tried to explain, but the confusion in the elf's face only grew.

"Why would they want to do this?" the elf asked, frowning.

"I guess it is seldom a matter of wanting to, but rather one of needing to do it – or being forced – at least in a place like this," Aragorn continued softly, his eyes flickering to the young curly haired girl, who was now being held once more in a firm grip by the fat man.

Legolas' eyes widened in shock. "You mean this man is trying to sell that little girl to someone for tonight?" Aragorn nodded gravely. "But she looks so young, she must be a mere child," the elf whispered aghast.

"Well, what about it now?" the man inquired impatiently. "Do you want her or not?" As Legolas' eyes flashed at him angrily, he assumed a more friendly tone. "You see, sir, you are scaring the other customers away, so if you are not interested I must ask you to please walk on."

"We will take our leave," Aragorn spoke, his hand discreetly pressing against the small of Legolas' back, indicating that they should go on. However, the elf refused to move.

"We cannot leave that little girl possibly with this man," he said, looking up firmly into Aragorn's eyes. "Think of what they will do to her!"

"What would you have us do, Legolas?" Aragorn inquired sadly. "Would you really have us start a fight here in the street?"

Legolas shook his head as he took in the crowded street. "No, people might get hurt...," he said thoughtfully. "Is there no peaceful way to free her?"

Aragorn thought about it. "Well, we could try to buy her free," he finally said doubtfully.

"Please try," Legolas replied.

Aragorn nodded and turned to the man.

"Would you sell her?" he inquired, indicating the girl who looked up at him with fearful eyes.

"Oh, you've taken a liking to her, haven't you?" the man grinned dirtily. "It all depends on the price of course."

Aragorn had to muster all his self-constraint to not hit the man in the face. "How much?" he managed to say through gritted teeth. The man named a ridiculously high price and they haggled a while. Finally, when he realized that the man would not budge, he paid him the money most unwillingly, the knowledge that the man would just use it to buy the next poor little thing tugging at his conscience, but he did not see any other way out.

"Hey, you, you go with these two gentlemen," the fat man addressed the young girl. "Enjoy yourselves," he called after them, causing Aragorn almost to shake with anger. He constrained himself, seeing at how thin Legolas' lips had grown that his companion was feeling the same way.

* * *

They walked along silently, the young girl trailing behind them slowly, probably weighing her chances at running away, Aragorn thought. She did not, however.

When they had reached a sufficient distance, Aragorn stopped and turned to the little girl. "What is your name?" he inquired kindly.

"Rose," she replied, eying him suspiciously. "And what is yours, sir?" she continued boldly.

"It is..:" Aragorn trailed of, wondering which of his many names to give to her, not wanting to tell her his real name. "Estel," Legolas cut in, when he noticed his hesitation. "And my name is Legolas."

Aragorn smiled at him and then said: "We want you no harm little Rose. Can we take you back to your parents?"

"Back to my parents?" she repeated slightly confused. "My parents are both dead…"

"I am sorry for that," Aragorn said softly, having already suspected as much. "Do you have other relatives we could take you to?"

"I was taken to relatives after my parents died, but they have already so many children that they had to give me away…," she said, sounding distressed now. "I don't think they would like to take me back…"

Aragorn sighed. It was just as he had supposed.

"Would you like to come with us then at first?" Legolas asked kindly.

The girl's expression grew suspicious once more, but then she shrugged, looking defeated. "Why not… I don't have anywhere else to go."

* * *

When they arrived at the inn, the inn keeper was present. His jaw dropped when he found them coming back with a young girl – he probably had feared to be confronted with an elven army instead.

"We need another room for the young lady here. I am sure there is an empty room available now?" Aragorn said pointedly.

"Of…of course, master;" the inn keeper stuttered. "I hope the young lady won't be bothered by the ghost, though?" he continued worriedly.

"A ghost?" Rose burst out. "I can't sleep alone with a ghost in a room, I'll die of fear!"

Aragorn turned to look at her. "Well, what shall we do with you then? You need to sleep somewhere," he said, frowning.

"Please don't make me sleep in a room with a ghost!" the girl begged.

Aragorn sighed, wondering whether Legolas would concede to go and look for another inn now. But it was already dark and walking through the city with a child and his elven companion to look for another inn was also not a very appealing thought.

"Would you like to stay in our room?" he heard the elf say and turned towards him, not quite believing his ears.

Rose did not reply immediately, probably torn between her fear of the ghost and her distrust of the elf and the man. But Legolas' kindness seemed to be winning her over – or her fear of ghosts was simply too big. Either way, she finally said: "That would be very kind…"

Aragorn raised an eyebrow at his beloved, as they walked upstairs. "It will be alright," Legolas said softly. "I do not need to sleep, so she can have my place in the bed. You do not mind, do you?" he added, growing slightly concerned. Aragorn could not help himself but smiled. "Your kind heart makes me glad," he said simply.

* * *

A little while later Rose was tugged into bed, but even though she looked tired, her eyes were still wide open and she would not fall asleep. Too much had happened during the long day.

Legolas shared a questioning look with Aragorn, more than inexperienced at putting a young girl to sleep. He wondered how young she was for a human being. Earlier she had told him that she had just turned twelve, but that age held not much meaning for him. He only knew that Aragorn had come of age at 20, so she must still be very young.

Then Aragorn's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "When I could not sleep as a child, one of the elves would sing me a song," he was telling Rose at the moment.

"Oh yes, mother always told me that the elves can sing the most beautiful songs and tell the most wonderful stories!" she exclaimed.

Legolas took the hint, smiling at Aragorn. "Would you like me to sing you a song?" he questioned. She nodded, looking delighted.

He shortly mulled over what song to sing, but when his gaze fell on Aragorn, he knew what song he would sing to them. Softly, not wanting to wake the entire house, he began to sing the song of Beren and Lúthien.

He was rewarded by a loving smile, when Aragorn recognized the song after the first few notes. Rose was sitting up in bed, the blanket drawn up to her chin, listening to the song mesmerized, as he sang about the divine elven maiden who had fallen in love with a mortal man and finally followed him in death.

Aragorn leaned forward and blew out the candle. Legolas closed his eyes while he sang and when he opened them again, he saw Nimrodel standing at the window, transparent tears running over her fair face. Legolas made no sign that he had noticed her, not wanting to scare Rose who still listened intently, but inwardly he cringed, sorry to cause her pain and berating himself for not having considered that she might come to listen to that very song.

After a few minutes the song ended and he noticed that Rose had finally fallen asleep. He motioned to Aragorn to turn and the man saw Nimrodel standing by the window. His hand found Legolas' and they both watched the elven maiden, silently wondering how she might be released from her existence in the shadow world. She raised her hands to wipe the tears away and left the room, the door opening and closing quietly.

Aragorn's eyes then fell on the sleeping human child. He chuckled softly. "I am glad the little one did not see poor Nimrodel. She would never have fallen asleep… but I must say, she is a brave girl," he whispered.

"Would you really have left her there?" Legolas asked silently, frowning.

Aragorn sighed. "When I encountered a similar scene many years ago, I wanted to do the very same thing as you did. My brothers kept me from it. They all but carried me away, saying that I cannot save the world – at least not yet. And since then, I have encountered similar places so terribly often. But I am still glad that we did take the little one with us – even though I still do not know what to do with her."

Legolas nodded, but his frown deepened. "You encountered similar scenes often, you say? So there are many more places like that?" he was gripping Aragorn's hand now very hard, looking at him desperately. "Why do men do something like this? I cannot comprehend it…," he whispered urgently, searching his beloved's face for answers. "She told me earlier she had just turned twelve…she really is a child, is she not? You told me you came of age at 20, so she must be…"

"She is," Aragorn confirmed softly. "Legolas, my dear Legolas, how can I explain to you what I do not understand myself? It is an utmost evil thing…"

Legolas closed his eyes and then opened them again, appearing a little calmer. "I am glad you understand it neither," he whispered, his voice faltering slightly. He pressed a kiss to Aragorn's lips and attempted to smile. "Sleep now, my love," he said softly and stood to sit in a chair by the window.

Aragorn regarded him sadly, terribly afraid that this experience would make the elf withdraw forever from the world of men – he had seen enough elves who had done so for lesser reasons.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I am so sorry, this chapter took even longer than the last one... but finally I got my inspiration back and was able to write the next chapter :) Thanks so much to sparrowismyhummingbird, Whisky Whisk, Lazy Gaga, KD Skywalker and Menghave2 for your lovely reviews! I am so glad you liked the last chapter. And special thanks to Aralas for your ideas and encouragement! :) I guess this chapter is rather fluffy, hopefully it's not too much? As always I am very grateful for any feedback, both positive and negative :)

Legolas slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on the bed, judging by the soft blanket draped over him and the mattress upon which he was lying. He sighed softly. Slowly, he was getting used to waking up like this.

However, to his surprise, this time he could not remember having any bad dreams. Instead, he felt drained, but it was not so much the bodily exhaustion he experienced after a long ride or fight. It was rather his mind that felt incredibly tired and also quite disoriented.

He slowly turned to his side and started slightly when he found a girl lying there fast asleep. Rose was her name, he thought. The events of the past day came back to him, much more slowly than they usually would and he raised a hand to touch his head. Had he hurt it somehow?

He turned to his other side and found Aragorn sitting next to the bed, watching him concernedly. He sat up – or rather, he tried to sit up, as the sudden movement caused the world to spin around him and he would have fallen backwards if not for Aragorn's quick reflexes, who quickly gripped his shoulders to steady him.

"Are you alright?" Aragorn whispered.

"What happened?" he replied. "I cannot remember anything…"

"You had no evil dreams?" Aragorn inquired, sounding surprised. "I found you lying in front of the door when I woke up late at night, unconscious, just like the past nights."

"Indeed? I cannot remember having any nightmares," Legolas replied softly.

"I was sitting by the window," he recalled with difficulty, "when Nimrodel reentered the room. It must have been quite late; I think I had been sitting there already for quite some time.

She walked by the bed, looking at you and Rose and then came over to the window, standing by my side. I rose myself and so we stood side by side, watching you and Rose sleep. She looked so incredibly sad.

I asked her whether there was nothing I could do to help her find her peace and she turned to me and looked at me desperately; touching her mouth as if wanting to indicate that she could not speak to me.

Then she started moving her hands as if trying to speak with them instead. Suddenly she motioned towards Rose and herself, but I was not able to understand what she tried to tell me. It was very confusing. I asked her whether it had something to do with Rose, but she shook her head, as if disappointed. And then… I know no more."

"She motioned towards Rose? This is most curious indeed…" Aragorn looked at the girl thoughtfully.

Legolas nodded, but he increasingly had trouble to focus on the matter at hand. He felt incredibly tired. Aragorn, who was still holding him, gently lowered him back into a lying position. "Sleep a little more," he whispered, and Legolas, feeling too tired to protest, complied, letting his mind wander and drift away into green woodland.

* * *

Aragorn sat next to the bed and watched his elven companion sleep. He was glad that the elf's eyes were now half open in his sleep, proving to him that he indeed was simply resting now. With every day that passed, the strange effect the elven spirit had on his beloved – for he could not think that there was any other reason for what happened to the elf - scared him more.

And even though tonight Legolas did not seem to have had any nightmares, he had barely been able to stay awake, nor to stay in a sitting position on his own. Aragorn had never witnessed anything alike in an elf – except for those who were grieved or injured. And Legolas – as far as he knew – was neither. Or was he?

Aragorn looked down at the pale hand he was still holding in his own. Legolas had not yet given any answer to what he had told him the night before and while he was willing to give him all the time he needed, he had to admit to himself that he was afraid of the elf's decision.

He did not know how to bear it if the elf told me that he could not join him on his path into the world of men. He could not imagine how he should ever move onwards if he was parted from his beloved not by waning love, but simply by the circumstances making their being together impossible.

But at the same time he felt horribly selfish, knowing that he himself put the men of Middle Earth before their love, forcing Legolas to choose between him and his own people. How could he ask of Legolas to do the very thing for the man he himself could – or would? - not offer to the elf?

* * *

When Legolas opened his eyes again, the sun had already risen. He felt much better and sat up without trouble, finding that Aragorn had fallen asleep on his chair, holding Legolas' hand still tightly in his. He gently disentangled himself und walked over to the window to look outside.

He opened it and breathed in the cool morning air. Even though they were in the middle of the town, he could smell the odor of blossoming flowers and green growing things which was carried over from the far away woods. It promised to be a bright day.

When Aragorn opened his eyes a little later, he caught sight of the elf's figure standing in front of the window, alighted by the sun, his hair shining like a halo. He smiled, still hovering between sleep and wake.

Rose stirred as well and slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She looked around sleepily and when her eyes fell on Legolas, she gasped softly, starting to rub her eyes again. Aragorn could not stop himself from chuckling and she turned towards him, startled by the sound.

"Oh," she said, sounding happy. "So it all hasn't been a dream? I am so glad."

"No, it has not indeed," Legolas confirmed, sounding cheerful as well, before the man could reply. He turned and smiled at them. "Let us go downstairs and have some breakfast, shall we?"

* * *

Both Aragorn and Legolas were aware that they would have to find a place to stay for Rose as soon as possible. King Thranduil was expecting them back in about two week's time and they would need about one week for their journey back.

Therefore, after breakfast Aragorn left to talk to the inn keeper who knew the local customs better than them, while Legolas stayed with Rose.

* * *

"We certainly can't take her," the inn keeper said to Aragorn, after he had explained the matter to him. "My wife's dead and I've to care for my own little girl as it is. Business is running badly and we can't feed an additional mouth. I'm afraid you'll have trouble to find a place for her to stay. There are many well to do people in the city, but I can't think they would want to take in a poor little orphan."

"I see," Aragorn replied thoughtfully.

"Why don't you give her to an orphanage?" the man suggested.

Aragorn shook his head. "I have thought about this as well and I do not like the idea. I have seen some of these places and I do not want her to have to grow up in one of those. She might just end up in a brothel once more…"

At this moment Legolas entered the room, startling the inn keeper who still seemed rather fearful of the elf. Legolas frowned at him. "You have thought of no solution?" he inquired.

Aragorn shook his head, rising and thanking the inn keeper for the consideration he had given the matter. "We have to find a solution for her soon, though," he said, switching to Sindarin. "We cannot stay here much longer."

Legolas nodded, frowning. "I know. There is no way my father would permit me to raise a human child at his court and your life as a ranger makes it equally impossible to take care of a child."

Aragorn turned and caught sight of Rose, who was standing close to the door, clearly trying to eavesdrop on them. He smiled at her. "Let us take her to the tailor first. She cannot keep wearing those rags in any case."

* * *

After Rose had been measured by the tailor and had decided on the fabric and colour of her new dresses, they decided to ride outside of the city in the afternoon. Their horses were in desperate need of some exercise and entertainment and Rose had rarely been outside the city.

Legolas took her onto his horse and let her sit in front of himself, so he would be able to catch her in case she fell. The girl was thrilled, having never sat on a horse before.

Legolas felt his spirits rise as soon as they left the city, glad to be surrounded by nature. They did not go far from the city, not wanting to encounter orcs or other foul creatures, as long as little Rose was with them.

* * *

A little while later, after a lot of persuasion and assistance from both Legolas and Aragorn, all three of them were sitting on the broad branch of a tree, enjoying the afternoon sun and discussing whether they should move to another inn. Legolas still was reluctant, but had to admit that they could not truly continue the awkward sleeping arrangement of the past night for another week.

"Why's there a ghost in the inn?" Rose finally asked tentatively, as if wondering whether she really wanted to hear the reason.

The elf looked at the man, who shrugged and so, after a pause, he told her about the fate of the elven maiden. To his surprise, Rose did not seem frightened at all by the story, instead she seemed to find it rather interesting and romantic.

"My mama often said that there may be more elves among us than we think," she said thoughtfully, after he finished the story. "Close to the house I lived with my parents there lives a family with three daughters. They are very, very pretty girls and their mother and even their grandmother are very pretty as well. They all have very beautiful blonde hair and my mama claimed that even their ears are a little pointed. And the grandmother looks much younger than grandmothers usually do.

Mama was certain that one of their ancestors must have been an elf. Of course, mama was so very fond of the elves, that papa and I didn't believe her, we thought she was just making the story up, but maybe she was right after all?" The girl smiled a little sadly.

"What happened to your parents?" Legolas asked tentatively, uncertain whether he was allowed to touch upon the subject.

Rose, however, replied quite readily. "My papa died about a month ago. He's been very sad and ill, ever since my mama passed away a year ago. When I was younger, they had a small business and we had quite a lot of money, but then papa went bankrupt… mama always had been ill a lot and when papa lost his business we had no money left to pay for the doctor. And when papa fell ill we had money neither of course…" Her eyes turned watery, but she fought the tears rather bravely, Aragorn thought.

Legolas reached out, brushing away a stray tear that had managed to escape her eyes. "I cannot bring your parents back, Rose, but we will support you to find a place where you can be safe and happy as good as we can."

He paused, wondering how to go on, for it seemed so difficult to find a place for her to stay. He decided that she deserved the truth.

"However, Estel and I are strangers here, so you might need to help us a little." he continued softly. "Can you tell us what kind of place you would like to stay at, Rose?"

She looked at him a little surprised. Since the death of her parents, clearly no one had thought to ask the girl about her own wishes. She was silent for quite some time. "I think I wouldn't want to be given to another family. They might pretend to be nice at first and then they are not nice at all in the end... And I am already a big girl, I don't need someone to look after me anymore," she finally said.

"You are not saying that you want to go to an orphanage, are you?" Aragorn asked sceptically.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "I was at one for a couple of days, until my relatives were found and I was brought to them. It was quite horrible."

"Well, I am afraid you cannot live alone. Even though I understand that you are not a little child anymore, you are too young to be completely on your own," Aragorn replied.

"But there is no one with me anymore," she replied firmly. "I need to be on my own."

The man and the elf exchanged a look, lost for words what to reply to the child.

"I think I am not afraid of the poor ghost anymore," Rose announced unexpectedly. "I can sleep alone, even if she might turn up. Maybe the lady is happy if she gets some company?" she wondered.

* * *

They came back in the evening. Rose moved indeed into the little room next to them and the inn keeper inquired politely whether Aragorn and Legolas also wished to have separate rooms now.

Aragorn found himself searching for an answer, while Legolas smiled serenely and claimed that he had by now gotten so used to the room that he wished to keep it that way. The inn keeper looked doubtful, but did not question the matter further, as the sleeping arrangement was his fault in the first place.

* * *

The matter of little Rose`s fate weighed heavily on Legolas. In the rare cases an elven child was orphaned it was taken in by the closest relatives – in most cases the grandparents of the child. It seemed quite unbelievable to him that little Rose had really no relatives who were able and willing to take her in.

He would have preferred to find a family for her to live with, but she had all but begged not to be taken to an unknown family and he had to acknowledge that it would be almost impossible for him and Aragorn who knew no one in this city to find a nice and trustworthy family, willing to take a little orphan. The strength the girl showed despite all adversities, her ability to adjust to the changes impressed him.

He wondered whether she really was prepared to sleep alone, afraid that she might be sitting scared and alone in her room and decided to check on her before he went to sleep. He knocked at her door softly, not wanting to wake her in case she was already asleep and opened it upon hearing a soft "Enter!"

Rose was lying in bed, the blanket drawn up to her chin, but she was still wide awake.

"Are you not asleep yet?" he asked, smiling at her. "Are you still afraid of the ghost?"

She shook her head. "It's alright. It's just a poor lonely lady. It's not very scary, you know?"

"I am glad about that," he replied. "Shall I leave you alone then, Rose?"

His hand had already moved to the door knob, when she suddenly shook her head furiously.

He turned, smiling at her encouragingly.

"Maybe…maybe you could stay and sit with me a little?" she asked in a quiet voice, looking suddenly very small.

"Of course," he said and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge.

"You know, when you asked me earlier what place I would like to stay at?" she said.

"Yes?" he said. "Did you think of something?"

"When I was younger, my parents sent me to a school where I went to live for two years, because my papa was busy with his work and my mama had fallen ill and couldn't take care of me. I liked it there very much, but when papa lost his business, I was taken out of the school of course, as it was much too expensive. I've been thinking of it a lot these past days when I was all alone… Of course I could never afford to stay in a place like this now, but maybe there are schools as well for poor girls?" she wondered.

"I do not know about these things very well," he said apologetically. "But I will ask Estel, if that is alright with you?"

She nodded, looking hopeful.

"Do you think you can sleep now?" he asked.

She looked thoughtful and then said tentatively: "Would you maybe sing me a song again, like yesterday, so I can fall asleep more easily?"

He smiled. "Of course I will. What would you like to hear?" he inquired. "Shall it be a story?"

"Oh…could you sing something in Elvish?" she asked. "It sounds so beautiful."

He nodded and thought a little. "I could sing you a hymn to Elbereth," he finally said. "In Sindarin we call it 'A Elbereth Gilthoniel'. It is a quiet song and very important to us elves. Would you like to hear it?" She nodded eagerly and so he began to sing.

Aragorn, who could hear his fair voice in the next room, smiled, pleased and a little surprised how much his beloved started to care about the human child.

* * *

A little while later the door opened and Legolas came in. Aragorn stood and pulled him into an embrace, kissing him lovingly. The elf leaned into the embrace, when they broke the kiss.

He told Aragorn about the school Rose had talked about and as Aragorn knew as little about these matters as he did, they decided to talk to the inn keeper once more in the morning.

"Let us go to sleep, my love, you look tired," Legolas finally said, tracing the circles under Aragorn's eyes lightly with his fingers. He felt a little guilty, knowing that last night the man once again had not gotten much sleep.

Aragorn nodded, letting Legolas lead him to the bed. The elf leaned over to blow out the candle. Just as the light went out, the man suddenly embraced him from behind, pulling the elf towards him.

"Aragorn!" he protested laughing. He turned and found the man smiling vaguely in the direction of his face. Probably he hardly could see him in the darkness, the elf thought. He tackled Aragorn, pinning him to the bed and kissed him. When he pulled back, the man's arms tightened around him, holding him close, so he came to rest on top of him.

"Legolas?" he said softly.

"What is it?" he replied.

"It scares me how much Nimrodel's ghost is affecting you. Last night you were so exhausted, Legolas… this cannot be healthy. Are you really certain that this is alright?

The elf moved slightly, letting himself come to rest even deeper in Aragorn's embrace, his face leaning against the crook of the man's neck.

"I am a little scared myself," he finally admitted. "I have never felt like this before, but at least I had no nightmares last night.

I know that you want to leave this inn and probably you are right, but I feel somehow… responsible, like I have to be there for Nimrodel. We should have monitored our borders more closely, searched for her more thoroughly, prevented her from coming her or found her before it was too late."

Aragorn sighed and lifted his hand to caress the elf's head. "I know, Legolas, I know. I would feel the same…" And such intertwined, the pair fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Thanks a lot for reviewing to gginsc, Fantasia Sedai, Aralas and a Guest of whom I don't know the name! :) I am very glad you like it this far :) As always, I am very happy about any feedback, both positive and negative :)

Aragorn woke in the middle of the night. He reached out, his hand meeting – nothing. Legolas was not lying next to him anymore.

He sat up. The room was alight with moonlight and his eyes were by now used to the darkness. He looked around for the elf. However, Legolas was nowhere to be found. He stood up in order to check whether he had lost his consciousness again and was lying somewhere in a dark corner. Nothing.

This was strange. Maybe the elf had gone outside, to check on Rose or to drink some water downstairs? Aragorn left the room and silently opened the door to Rose's room. However, he was disappointed. The girl was fast asleep and she was alone. He shut the door again quietly and approached the stairs to go downstairs.

He wished he had a candle as there were no windows close to the staircase and it was very dark.

He carefully descended the stairs, holding on to the handrail in order not to miss a step and tumble down the stairs. As he came closer towards the end of the staircase, he was able to discern shapes, and outlines, the fire burning in a nearby room providing a faint light.

He started. Was there a figure lying on the floor right at the end of the staircase? His heart nearly missed a beat, but he forced himself to continue slowly down the stairs.

As he finally reached the end of the stairs, he knelt down quickly and found his horrible suspicion confirmed. Legolas was lying on the floor, like a broken doll that had been thrown down the stairs. His hands trembled so much that it took several long moments, which felt like a whole eternity, until he found the elf's pulse.

He released the breath he had not even known he was holding. The elf was alive, his pulse weak, but steady. He got up, suddenly feeling dizzy with relief, barely able to stand. He walked over to the room in which the fire burned and lit a candle. Taking the candle back to Legolas and putting it next to the elf, he started to check his beloved for injuries.

The elf had been very fortunate. He had broken nothing, only the side on which he had apparently fallen was bruised and would turn blue tomorrow. In two or three days he would most likely be healed entirely.

Aragorn gently lifted Legolas into his arms, careful not to touch his bruises and carried him upstairs, back into their room. He returned downstairs quickly to make a brew of athelas leaves he had brought with him over the fire and took it upstairs to dab Legolas' bruises with it. At the touch the elf shifted uncomfortably, but did not wake.

Finally he set down the cloth and settled next his beloved, pulling him into a gentle embrace, careful not to hurt him further. He fell into a light, uneasy slumber until morning dawned.

* * *

The rising sun woke Aragorn out of his fitful slumber. His eyes searched immediately for Legolas, who lay next to him. He was still asleep, but his eyes were now half-open, telling Aragorn that he had escaped from unconsciousness into a light slumber.

When he gently moved him to see to his injuries, the elf stirred and opened his eyes.

"Aragorn?" he murmured confused. "What happened?"

"You fell down the stairs, Legolas, and hurt yourself," Aragorn replied. Suddenly he felt utterly exhausted.

"Fell down the stairs?" Legolas said, sounding startled. "Which stairs?"

"The stairs in this very house," Aragorn answered. "Do you not remember?"

"No…," Legolas whispered. "All I know is that I fell asleep last night in your arms." He sat up gingerly, frowning when he moved his bruised limbs. He raised a hand to touch the side of his head, wincing almost unnoticeably as he did so.

"How could this happen?" He stared at his left arm which had turned blue and then moved to examine his leg.

"I do not know," Aragorn replied. He took Legolas' right hand, holding it so tight as if he never wanted to let go again.

"Do elves sleepwalk?" he asked. He had meant it as a joke, trying to lighten up the mood, but it came out awkward, sounding both frightened and ironic.

Legolas did not even seem to notice. He simply shook his head. "I have never heard of it," he said. He swallowed, not able to tear his eyes off his body, staring at his bruises as if trying to memorize them. He had been hurt before, but never without his knowledge.

Abruptly, Aragorn let go of him. He stood and retrieved his pack with his healing herbs and medicine, sorting through it absentmindedly. Finally he returned with an ointment and handed it to Legolas.

The elf took it instinctively, but did not move to apply it, staring at his hand which was holding the small tin. Finally Aragorn took it back from Legolas and began to apply it to the elf's bruises himself. The pain seemed to startle Legolas out of his thoughts. He tore his eyes off his body and looked at Aragorn for the first time properly since he had awoken.

Aragorn's hands were trembling slightly as they gently moved over his skin. "Aragorn?" he said hesitantly. "What is it?"

"Aragorn?" he repeated when the man made no answer, continuing to apply the ointment to Legolas' skin. His hands, however, were trembling even more. Finally the elf caught the man's hands in his own, stilling them.

"I found you lying lifelessly at the bottom of the staircase," the man said almost inaudibly. "I thought you were dead. Even elves can break their neck if they tumble down a staircase!" he said, his voice growing louder with every word until it sounded almost violent.

He pulled Legolas into a close embrace, still mindful of his injuries. His whole body was shaking now and the elf realized that his beloved was crying. He gently stroked his back, whispering "I am sorry" over and over again. And he truly was. If he was to find Aragorn in a similar position, he could not think what he would do.

He knew that now was the time when he should have told Aragorn that they would leave this inn, that they would go somewhere else. But somehow he could not bring himself to say the words, to put his own safety before the vague possibility that in the few nights that remained he might do something to help the elven ghost.

Still, he was more scared than had ever been in his life. He could trust neither his own body nor his mind anymore. How had he fallen down the stairs when he could not even remember leaving the bed?

Finally the trembling ceased and Aragorn released Legolas. He looked at him as if wanting to say something and then shook his head, resuming quietly applying ointment to the elf's skin.

* * *

A little while later they decided to wake Rose and go down to breakfast with her. Despite everything that had happened during the past night they still needed to find a solution for the little girl's future.

Legolas knocked at her door and then opened it slowly. Rose was still asleep, her brown curls spread unruly over her pillow. He called her name, but the girl did not wake, so he made his way over to the bed, to shake her gently awake.

He smiled at her, when she sleepily opened her eyes. It surprised and even frightened him a little how quickly the girl had found a place in his heart. He felt responsible for her, just as would feel for an elven child and he was grateful, for through the human child he began to glimpse a road towards warming to his beloved's people.

While Aragorn was wonderful in everything Legolas valued, he was much too alike to the elves to endear mankind to him. But Rose managed to show him the liveliness, the youthfulness and the courage that was as much part of mankind as the negative sides he had encountered and he was grateful for it.

When the girl came to her senses a few moments later and looked at Legolas properly, catching sight of his injuries, she cried out in shock, inquiring immediately what had happened to him. He claimed to have fallen and hurt himself – which was not entirely a lie – but she did not seem satisfied, staring at him worriedly all through breakfast.

* * *

After breakfast, Legolas and Aragorn went to talk to the inn keeper once more, while Rose stayed behind at their bidding.

"We have talked to Rose and she says she would like to attend a school. Apparently there are schools where the children are able to stay throughout the year?" Aragorn inquired.

"Well, there are schools for girls from wealthy families who get a good education before they marry. But for girls of her state – judging by her rags she has not even learned her letters yet!" The inn keeper replied, shaking his head about such an irrational proposal.

"She says in earlier days when her father's business was still going well, she went to a school of this kind. She has been wondering whether there might be a school she could attend now, as an orphan," Legolas said calmly.

"There are no schools for children like her," the inn keeper grumbled. "There's always the orphanage, I am sure they send the children to some kind of school as well…," he continued vaguely. "To go to a school like she's talking about she'll need to pay the school fees and they are not cheap, that much I know! And of course, they wouldn't take a child without any guardian who takes responsibility for her or anything. How do you expect to find someone who'd do that for her?"

Legolas sighed softly, resting his head in his hands for a second. How indeed where they supposed to accomplish this? How would they ever find someone to take care of the child in this big, unknown city? It seemed quite impossible indeed. But did they need to find a guardian for her in this very city, if she was to live at the school?

He raised his head again and noticed Rose standing half behind the door frame, eavesdropping on them again. Her face was distressed and she was watching them anxiously.

And suddenly he knew how it was to be accomplished. "I will do it. I will act as her guardian," he said simply and steadily, as if he had been planning on saying this all the time, utterly surprising both Aragorn and the inn keeper. "If she will have me, of course," he added, smiling, as her face was already telling him the answer.

"An elf as the guardian of a human child! This is quite unheard of!" the inn keeper muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Not quite," said Aragorn, looking at Legolas astonished. "But most surprising."

* * *

Now, that everything was decided, preparations were to be made and formalities to be dealt with. Of course, Legolas spoke to Rose at length, telling her that he was bound to Mirkwood and would only rarely be able to come and visit her. And that it would be impossible for him to take her ever to Mirkwood. But she was content with that.

The tailor had already finished one of her dresses, so it was picked up. Rose's old school was contacted and they inquired whether she would be taken in once more. They were startled when the girl appeared with an unknown man and an elf who claimed that he was to be the child's guardian. But as he was certainly able to pay the school fee, they were satisfied enough and took Rose back.

* * *

When they finally retired to the little inn in the evening, mostly everything was settled and Rose was ready to go and live at her old school in two days' time.

Legolas had not addressed the matter of moving to another inn anymore - there also had been no time during the busy day. And so, when night fell, the darkness filled Aragorn with dread for the first time since he had been a child.

He sat in their room, waiting for Legolas as the elf sang another lullaby to Rose. He was still astonished about the elf's choice to take the guardianship over the girl, but strangely pleased that the elf was prepared to take on such a responsibility for a human child.

The door opened some minutes later and Legolas entered the room, smiling to himself. He changed into his nightshirt and the healer in Aragorn noticed that the bruises were already fading – at least his beloved's healing abilities did not fail him.

"Do you think it was right?" the elf asked suddenly, while combing his hair, looking at Aragorn uncertainly, almost as if afraid of the man's judgment.

"What was right?" Aragorn replied, a little confused, as Legolas' voice had startled him out of his observations.

"Taking guardianship over little Rose," the elf replied. "I will be able to see her only so rarely and I know so little of what a human child might need."

"I have never seen a happier child. Do not worry, my love, she will be taken care of well in her school. And while I myself also think that a family would have been best for her, how should we find one we can really trust? It is the best that could have been done and I am very glad you did it," Aragorn replied fondly.

Legolas looked relieved, but his smile faltered when Aragorn's face turned serious again quickly and the worried expression which he had worn all day resumed power over his face again.

The elf made his way over to the bed and sat down next to Aragorn. "In two days' time we will leave, so tonight I will once more try to communicate with poor Nimrodel. There is something she wanted to tell me…maybe something she needs me to do for her?" he said tentatively.

Aragorn nodded. "I knew you would say this," he replied. "So I will stay awake with you. Even if I cannot protect you from any evil dreams you might have, I can prevent you from hurting yourself again."

Legolas looked troubled, but did not argue his choice, respecting it just as the man had respected his own decision to stay.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:**I am very sorry I took so long to post the next chapter this time! I was quite busy and I also had a rather hard time writing this chapter. I am still quite uncertain about it, but I guess at some point I have to post it... I would love to hear what you think! :) Thanks a lot for your reviews Fantasia Sedai, Shadowkan Shai, Bigpattern, PseudoSoapScribe, Aralas (thanks for reviewing even twice!) and a Guest! :) I am very grateful for all the encouragement and constructive criticism! :)

Aragorn woke with a start in the middle of the night, lying on the bed in an awkward angle. Slowly he dragged one arm out which had been caught under his body and sat up. Why did his head hurt so much?

He had wanted to stay awake, had he not? What had happened? He shook his head to clear it, but the movement just caused him further pain. A vague image of Legolas hitting him on the head with a quick blow came back to him…but surely this could not really have happened?

Where was Legolas? His eyes searched the room, but the elf was nowhere to be found. Angered and horrified he realized that he had failed his beloved, even though he had promised to protect him. Why had he fallen asleep now of all times? He had sat through many watches at night and he never had fallen asleep during a watch. Could Legolas really have knocked him out?

Legolas had made to leave the room and when he had asked him where he was going, trying hold him back...the elf had hit him and probably knocked him out, for afterwards everything was dark. Or had he? Aragorn was not sure whether he could still trust his own memory. Why would his beloved act like this? Had it all been a dream?

Whatever had happened, he needed to look for him. For all he knew, he could be lying dead downstairs right now…it had been close last night.

Fully aware of how foolish it was to hope that Legolas simply kept young Rose company, Aragorn took the candle that was still burning – a childish hope that light might keep away any spook had kept both of them from blowing it out – and silently opened the door to Rose's room. The girl was lying in bed, smiling in her sleep. Legolas, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Dreading what he might find, he approached the stairs, descending them hastily. This time however, no one was lying at the bottom of the staircase and he sighed, both relieved and apprehensive.

Where was his beloved?

He turned and when he heard a small sound, he went cautiously into the room in which a fire was burning low during the night. The old woman, the inn keeper's mother, was sitting in there. When she saw Aragorn, she raised her hands over her hand and screamed.

"I don't know where your child is!" she wailed. "I've done nothing to her!"

"My…child?" Aragorn replied, confused. "Little Rose is asleep in her bed upstairs. What are you talking about, woman?"

"The elf!" she shrieked. "He came down on me like a demon, screaming in a terrible voice 'My child! Where is my child? He shook me and when I said that I did not know where the child was, he finally released me and left the house. He is utterly mad, behaved as if possessed!"

Aragorn stared at her startled. That seemed so little like Legolas that he would have claimed that she was dreaming – if not the fact had remained that Legolas was gone. And that he might have knocked out Aragorn before he left. What might have come over him?

Suddenly he realized what exactly the old woman had said. "Possessed you say? Possessed…," he muttered.

The old woman nodded fearfully. And suddenly it all fit together like a puzzle. He had found Legolas in front of the door even though the elf recalled that he had fainted by the window. Legolas had fallen down the stairs even though he could not remember even leaving the bed. And he had attacked both Aragorn and a helpless old woman even though he never resolved to needless violence. The old woman was right.

This was not Legolas at all, who had moved and acted, there was someone else who had taken possession of the elf's body – and if he was not very mistaken, he knew who it was.

His mind raced. Why would Nimrodel commit a crime as horrid as taking possession of another body? Why would she be in such dire need of the elf's body – and where would she go with it? Was she in league with evil? But no…Legolas – or Nimrodel if he was right – had asked for a child, the old woman had said…

"Did Nimrodel have a child before she died?" he addressed the old woman rather harshly.

"A child?" she repeated. "I know of no child, I cannot think she had one."

"But you would not know, would you?" Aragorn spoke, more to himself than to her. "Who would tell his children that he gave away their sibling – maybe even killed it? But the child still would have been his own flesh and blood…I cannot believe he would have killed it. So if there really was a child, he would have given it away, would he not?"

The old woman shook her head helplessly.

He turned away from her. A half-elven child would certainly not go unnoticed…there would be rumors, people whispering about its startling beauty and longevity, would there not? But had he not heard such rumours only yesterday, attributing them to the overflowing imagination of little Rose's late mother?

He stormed back upstairs, into Rose's room. The girl opened her eyes sleepily, startled at the sound.

"Rose, I am sorry to wake you," he said urgently. "But I need your help. Can you lead me to the house of the family you told us about? The one about which your mother said that everyone looks as if they were of elven origin?"

She nodded, still looking confused. She got out of bed and put her new dress over the white chemise she had slept in. Then, her hair still unkempt, she turned to Aragorn, who still waited at the door.

"Estel…Is there something wrong with Legolas?" she asked fearfully.

He hesitated, but then nodded curtly. There was no way he could keep from her what had happened, if he took her along – and he had to take her. It would take him too long to find the house on his own.

So only some minutes later they raced through the night, little Rose clinging tightly to Aragorn's hand to keep up with his speed. But she did not complain, wanting to reach their destination almost as desperately as the man did.

* * *

When they finally arrived it was almost dawn.

They slowly, quietly approached the house. Rose was still holding tightly on to Aragorn's hand.

The man was tense, horribly afraid of who – or what – he was going to find. If he only was wrong in his assumptions and his beloved's body had not been taken over by the elven maiden's ghost… but then again, if he was wrong, where else should he look for Legolas?

As soon as the house came in sight, however, he realized that he had been right.

A white figure was standing forlornly in a dark corner next to the house. Long fair hair and white clothes waving in the light breeze, it truly looked like a ghost. It had turned its back to them, but Aragorn immediately recognized his beloved's blonde hair and the white nightshirt he was still wearing. And even though he was still hoping that this was Legolas – and only Legolas – he knew that the elf would never have left the house like this, in his nightclothes and particularly without his weapons.

"Please wait here for me," he implored upon Rose and reluctantly she nodded and let go of his hand.

He approached Legolas cautiously. The elf turned, sensing his presence. He was clutching a white bundle in his arms.

"Oh, so you have finally come, my love? You have not abandoned me?" The elf said. Aragorn started, confused for a moment. Was this Legolas after all? But his hopes were crushed immediately, for in the speech and the expression of the elf's features, there was no sign of his beloved to be found.

The elf started, frowning as if confused as he regarded Aragorn more closely. "But you are not him. He has left me to die… and he is dead now as well…I had forgotten for a moment…Who might you be?"

Before he could answer, the elf's eyes widened. "I recognize you. You are the mortal man whom Prince Legolas loves," Nimrodel said with Legolas' lips.

Aragorn nodded, forcing himself to remain calm. "And I love him as well, so I beg you to release his body and give him back to me."

"I cannot do so yet…. There are still things left for me to do." the elf said vaguely. Legolas' arms clutched the bundle more tightly and his eyes left Aragorn. He – or rather Nimrodel – turned back towards the house as if the elf had completely forgotten that Aragorn was there.

"My child…," the elf whispered softly, staring at the house. "Where is my child? I feel her presence yet I feel it not…"

"What is it that keeps you from passing to the halls of Mandos? Did something happen to your child?" Aragorn inquired desperately, sensing that he needed to play along with the distraught ghost, even if he terribly feared for Legolas. What did happen to a soul whose body was occupied by another presence for such a long time?

The past nights his beloved seemed to have been able to fight off her presence, but not today…was he even still there?

Startled, the elf turned back to him once more. "Oh, it is you again. What keeps my soul here you ask? I cannot tell you, mortal man, for it is folly to trust your kind," the elf replied. "Leave me alone now."

"I promise you, my lady, that I can be trusted. Do I not speak to you in your own tongue this very moment?" Aragorn implored. "I was raised by Elrond Halfelven and my loyalty lies as much with the elves as with the race of men."

"Indeed you speak my tongue well," Nimrodel said and an uncertain look crossed Legolas' face. "Never before have I heard any man speak it as you do.

But still, you do not refrain from bringing pain to one of my kind. You have taken the prince's heart and you must know what follows if know us elves so well. Even if you remain faithful to him, he will remain alone in this world after you die, suffering eternal sadness till this world ends or have to beg to die a mortal's death himself. If you really love him, how can you let him suffer like this for loving you?"" Nimrodel looked at him now truly for the first time since they spoke, aware of him and her surroundings. He shuddered as he saw the foreign soul shine behind his beloved's eyes.

"I know, my lady. But whom he bestows his heart upon remains his choice and I cannot make it for him. I will, however, honour whichever choice he makes," he replied, looking back at her evenly despite himself.

"Your words are…very…noble…," the elf whispered softly. "Might there truly be good to be found in mortal men? I have seen you tend to Prince Legolas when he was drawn into darkness at night and the kindness you showed to the human child along with the prince, but still…how can I believe it after what happened…."

Suddenly, with an almost violent gesture, the elf grasped Aragorn's shirt. "They have taken my child! I was already fading when I gave birth to her and had no strength left to keep them from taking her! If I only had had the strength to live... They took her away and I do not know where she is… I cannot leave her here; I must find her and take her home, who knows what will happen to my child…"

"My lady, your child was born 100 years ago. If she is still alive right now, she will be grown. She will not need you to look after her anymore." Aragorn said, trying to keep his voice calm even though he was aghast at learning what had happened to the elven maiden. Still, his fear for Legolas was bigger. He needed to make the spirit leave his beloved's body as quickly as possible, so that he would finally, hopefully be able to make certain that Legolas was alright.

"My child, where is my child?" the elf whispered desperately, not even seeming to hear Aragorn's words.

Aragorn stared down at his beloved's hands clutching his shirt. How was he supposed to find out what had happened to Nimrodel's daughter? Should he ring the doorbell in the middle of the night and inquire what had happened to the ladies' great-grandmother? He looked around and his eyes fell on Rose.

"Maybe our young friend can tell us what happened to your daughter," Aragorn said, gently disentangling Legolas' hand from his shirt. "Rose?" he said, turning to the girl who was still standing where he left her, looking terrified at the violent exchange she could not understand.

When she did not move, he held out a hand and slowly she went over and grasped it, worry creasing her young face as she looked up at Legolas.

"Rose, do you know what happened to the great-grandmother of the young ladies who live here?" he asked kindly.

"Oh…yes, I do," she replied tentatively. "She was quite famous and there are lots of stories being told about her in town. It is said she was the fairest being ever seen in Esgaroth. She was adopted by an elderly couple as a very little child and they loved her like their own daughter. She was so fair and lovely, they say, and even at 40 she never looked a day older than 18. Everyone said she must be a lost child of the elves or maybe a fairy princess," Rose said.

"Fairy…?" Aragorn said, frowning. But Rose was so caught up in her story that she overheard him. "She married a handsome young man from a wealthy family and had a little daughter who is the grandmother living here. She is already 80 years old, my mama said, but she still looks only a little older than my mama when she died."

The elf was listening to the young girl mesmerized. "What happened then, young one? Why do you speak of her as though she was no more?" Nimrodel demanded and Aragorn frowned at hearing Legolas' voice pronounce Westron in such a way. He spoke the Common Tongue effortlessly and without accent, but Nimrodel's words were tinted with Sindarin.

"Oh…," Rose said, suddenly looking crestfallen. "She was your daughter, was she not? You really are the elven lady, just as Estel said…"

As the elf nodded, the girl whispered sadly: "She died, when Smaug destroyed the city. The roof caved in and buried her. She was crushed… But, my lady, everyone says that she was very, very happy while she lived, so please don't be sad!"

"Dead… my child is dead then…but her children live here, you say? That is why I feel her presence only faintly…," Nimrodel said softly. "And she was happy, you say? Here, among mortal men?"

Rose nodded anxiously. "And so are her daughter and granddaughter and great-granddaughters! The oldest girl will marry soon."

"Marry…," the elf whispered, staring down at the bundle in her arms.

"So my daughter and her childen were able find happiness in this world of men? It makes me glad…so glad… My burden is lifted then from me… I think I can go now…" the elf said and a strange glow appeared in Legolas' eyes.

"I beg you," Nimrodel said, turning to Aragorn, "to give Prince Legolas my thanks and my apologies, for I believe that I will not meet him again. Never before have I been able to leave the house of the family who robbed me off my happiness, even after its destruction I had to return, bound to my wedding dress I never wore…and with every day desperation grew for I could not find my child nor find out what had happened to her. Thanks to him I was able to find my peace."

The sun had begun to rise without anyone noticing, but now Legolas' eyes fixed on the morning sun. "I can see the entrance to the halls of waiting…" Nimrodel exclaimed. The dress slipped from Legolas' arms, his eyes closed and he began to fall. Aragorn caught him in his arms, cradling him against his chest, while in the morning sun the white figure of an elven maiden detached herself from Legolas' frame and rose towards the sun. "Please give my wedding dress to my oldest great-great-granddaughter. Finally, after 100 years, it shall be worn!" a faint voice seemed to call out to them and then she was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Sorry for making you again wait so long for this chapter. This is the last chapter, so I hope you all enjoy it! :) The end of the story actually turned out a little differently from what I planned at first, but stories tend to have a mind of their own I guess... I always find it very difficult to write the end of a story, I really hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited this story and special thanks to Aralas, gginsc and Fantasia Sedai for reviewing the previous chapter! :)

Legolas was wandering through a huge forest. It was very dark, but it was not nighttime. The trees were standing very close, preventing all daylight from coming in. Was he in Mirkwood? The trees seemed unfamiliar to him, but Mirkwood was a large forest and the elves remained mostly in their realm.

At first he had thought that it was a dream, like the ones he had before, but he had been wandering for so many hours that he had started to wonder whether maybe everything else been a dream and here was reality.

Nimrodel taking possession of his body – at his permission, but soon he had regretted it dearly, as he had to watch helplessly how she knocked his beloved out with his very own body and strength and spoke bitter words to him, blaming him for causing Legolas pain with his mortality – as if the man had chosen to be mortal on his own. Foolish maiden.

He had wanted to take control again then, to stop her from saying such things to Aragorn who had come and found him despite everything and even recognized that this was not Legolas who acted and spoke. But everything had become fainter and fainter with every minute, as if he was being carried away and then he had found himself lying on the forest floor.

He continued to wander, searching for a way out of the forest or a familiar path. But there seemed to be none. And the trees – and this was most mysterious – did not respond, as he asked them where he was. He had tried to climb a tree, to have a look over the treetops and find out where he might be, but it had been impossible. He had climbed and climbed and the treetop seemed to become higher with every inch he gained. Finally his strength had been exhausted and he had retreated resignedly.

He blinked. Had it become darker still? Maybe night had fallen? He continued to walk, but the darkness increased even more, until he felt almost blind. He started to feel frightened. He could usually see quite well at night and the blindness made him feel powerless. It also became colder.

He stopped, realizing that under his feet was no soft forest floor anymore, but rock. Tentatively he stretched out his hands. Again, he touched solid rock. How had he ended up in a cave?

He turned to make his way back, but once again came upon rock. Had he not walked were the rock was now mere minutes ago? What was happening?

He turned again and walked onwards as retreating seemed to be no option, trying very hard not to panic at being enclosed in a pitch black cave. Panic would take him nowhere.

The path seemed to lead him downwards in an endless seeming spiral and he wondered whether he might be doomed to wander here forever.

And then suddenly, finally, it became light again. He breathed out relieved. This had to be the exit to the cave. Eagerly he walked towards the light. Maybe if he reached it he would not only be released from this cave, but also from this strange place and could finally return to his beloved?

With every step he took the light became brighter, but suddenly he halted, standing as if frozen. Now that he was so close he could discern the great gate from which the light was coming. This was the entrance to the Halls of Mandos.

He took a step backwards and again came upon rock. In panic he turned, but the walls were closing in around him, driving him mercilessly towards the light.

He turned again, facing the light. How had he come here? Had his time really already come?

"Come inside, elven child. There is no escape for you," a powerful voice called, demanding, but not unkind.

He shook his head, stemming his back into the rock as if trying to hold the moving stone merely with his strength. Instinctively his hands went to his bow and arrows.

"You do not want to die, elven child? But die you must and indeed, death will not be hard on you. Soon I will release you into Valinor, just as if you sailed there by ship – you have done no evil, so there is no reason to keep you in here forever. There is no need to be afraid of death."

Legolas stared at the light, horrified. What was he to do? In the Halls of Waiting men and elves waited alike, but then their paths were parted. And an elf's death was no longer the death he wanted to die.

To have to go in there without knowing whether he had any chance of changing his fate, of sharing the fate of men seemed unbearable. Fair Luthien might have been able to move the Lord of Mandos to pity, singing to him before his throne with her beautiful voice, but he had little hope of doing so.

He stemmed himself against the wall with greater force and raised his voice. "Lord of Mandos, what you tell me must be solace to all of my kin. To me, however, Valinor seems like a wasteland, for all chance of ever meeting again the mortal man I love will be lost to me there and I will be doomed to eternal grief. Therefore I beg to grant me the grace of dying the death of mortal man. Then I will come inside."

There was no reply, but the wall behind kept pushing him towards the light. He refused to move, even though he felt that soon he would lose his balance. Finally, he fell over, landing on his hands and knees, but still refused to move forwards.

"Will you not answer to my plea, if you must take my life?" he whispered bitterly.

"Elven child, do you think me so unkind?" finally the voice whom he thought to be the Lord of Mandos replied. "It is not me who brought about your death. Indeed, I know that you have done a great service to me, bringing me a little soul that could not find this very way. Housing another soul, however, is a much too heavy burden to bear, be it man or elf. You lost the connection to your body, elven child and so you are driven towards death."

So that was it, Legolas thought. He had wanted to help Nimrodel, of course he had, but never had he thought that he might have to give his life doing so. He was prepared to die for his people, as he fought for them day by day, but he had always imagined dying in battle, protecting those he loved. Never had he imagined to die like this… The Lord of Mandos' voice startled him out his thoughts as he continued to speak.

"But because what you did was noble, elven child and your selflessness moves my heart, I will grant you the grace of changing your fate. However, after you made your decision, you will not be able to change your mind anymore. Will you truly forsake all your loved ones for one man?"

Legolas bowed his head, as sadness weighed him down. He would never be able to say his goodbye to his loved ones, both in Middle Earth and Valinor. And he would never meet them again or at least not until this world ended. He had never thought that he would have put his decision into action so soon. But still, there remained no doubt for him.

"I am certain," he said firmly and raised his head, looking into the light.

"Come then, elven child."

The light shone even brighter and he started to move. Even if he might not meet Aragorn where he was going, for no one knew what awaited men after death, at least there still remained a chance of meeting him again.

* * *

The afternoon sun bathed the room in the little inn in a warm light. However, for the man sitting there beside the bed it provided little comfort. Many, many hours had Aragorn been waiting at his beloved's bedside now, but still Legolas had not woken.

After the elven maiden's spirit had left the elf's body and finally found her way to the halls of Mandos, he had been relieved to find the heart of his beloved still beating, to find him still alive. He had carried him back to the little inn and settled down next to him, waiting for him to wake.

He had sent dead tired little Rose to bed, but she had insisted on waiting with him. Still, she had fallen asleep after a few minutes, kneeling next to the bed, her head resting on her arms folded neatly on the mattress. He had picked her up and laid her down next to Legolas where she still slept now, her face flushed in sleep in stark contrast to his beloved's deadly pale complexion.

Once again, he reached for Legolas' arm and checked his pulse – weak, but still there. How many times had he done so since dawn? He had lost count.

Had the elven spirit pushed his beloved's soul so far away that he could not find his way back? Or had he been aware of what had happened and decided not to return to this cruel world?

With every hour that passed his fear rose that Legolas might not return to the world of the living, but take the same path that Nimrodel had taken when she left his body.

But still, he knew Legolas well and it would be unlike the brave warrior to hide away and flee from trouble and sorrow like this. What if he truly could not find his way back? What if the elf was lost in the labyrinth of his own mind? What could he do?

If only Elrond was here, he thought despairingly. He had seen Elrond call back both men and elves from the brink of death whose minds were so deeply withdrawn that no one thought they might ever be reached again. He had taught Aragorn to use this gift that ran in the family, but never before had he dared to make use of this power.

Should he try now? Would Legolas want to return to him? A person who was called back to a world they did not want to return to might awake, but would still die shortly if they had no will to live – he had seen it happen, even to powerful Elrond. It was a cruel thing to watch.

Did Legolas' face look even paler now? Again, he reached for his beloved's wrist. His pulse was weaker than before, was it not? He could no longer wait for Legolas to wake. Despite all doubts he had to try to call him back.

He needed hot water, but dared not leave Legolas alone even a second. So he gently woke Rose, who was slumbering lightly now, after so many hours of sleep and she woke easily. When her eyes fell on Legolas, however, she paled.

Expertly, she reached for his wrist, searching for his pulse. This child had seen too many people ill and dying, he thought. Her face fell, as she felt how weak his pulse was. "Will he die, Estel?" she asked in a small voice, her eyes turning quite red.

He shook his head, trying to look convincing. "No, he will not die. I will bring him back. Can you help me once more, Rose? Can you go downstairs for me and bring some hot water? A small pot will suffice."

She nodded eagerly and hurried out of the room. Soon she returned, carrying the pot at a handle with both hands. Aragorn smiled at her gratefully and put some dry athelas leafs into the water which he had crushed before and the atmosphere in the room lightened up immediately. He put a bowl of the brew close to Legolas' face.

Rose was watching the procedure intently.

He leaned over Legolas, bringing their faces close together and called out for his beloved.

At first nothing happened. What was he doing wrong? He called again Legolas' name and closed his eyes, desperately wishing that he could venture into his beloved's mind and search for his consciousness. And suddenly, he felt it or saw it, he did not know whichever, but there was a faint light shining and he knew that it was Legolas. He reached out for him.

* * *

There were only a few more steps to take for Legolas until he would reach the entrance to the Halls of Waiting, when suddenly a voice called out for him. He stopped and looked around. It had sounded like Aragorn's voice, had it not?

Again, the voice called out, stronger this time. The walls stopped closing in. Confused, Legolas turned, still searching for his beloved. Was Aragorn here? Or was he in the halls already? He hoped so much that he was not.

And then, there was another light, a very small one in comparison to the one coming from Mandos. And somehow he knew that this was Aragorn, who had come for him.

Uncertainly Legolas took a few steps towards him. Would Mandos let him go? And if he did, was he still allowed to change his fate or would he have to follow the elves' path the next time he stood in front of this gate?

But the voice chuckled. "Have no fear, elven child. You made the same choice as fair Luthien and just like her I allow you to go back to Middle Earth. And when you come you will share the fate of men, be it now or in many years, whether you still want it or not." The way he said it, it sounded more like doom than blessing, but Legolas smiled gratefully. Aragorn called for him the third time.

"I thank you, Lord of Mandos," he said, bowed low and then went into the light.

* * *

Aragorn held onto the light that was Legolas and called for him once more. And this time, the elf came to him.

Finally Aragorn dared to open his eyes. Legolas' eyes were still shut, but colour had returned to his cheeks and he was breathing deeply and evenly. He sat up and smiled at Rose who was still watching him anxiously.

"Do not worry anymore, little one. It will be mere minutes till he wakes."

And so it was. He had barely finished speaking when Legolas' eyes fluttered open.

As he saw Aragorn and Rose sitting there before him, the elf closed his eyes and opened them again, slowly. This was a sight he had thought he would never see again. Were they real?

He realized that Aragorn was holding his hand and he tentatively closed his fingers around his beloved's. It felt very real.

Had it all been a cruel feverish dream? Or had Aragorn truly called him back from Mandos' doors?

Slowly Legolas made to sit up, but before he could move, he was caught in Aragorn's arms, who held him tight, burying his face in Legolas' long hair. He ran his hands over Aragorn's back, almost unable to believe that he was allowed to hold his beloved again in this world.

Finally the man released him and looked at him, smiling happily. Then, suddenly, he started and frowned, regarding Legolas worriedly. However, he did not speak, but made room to let exited little Rose embrace the elf as well.

* * *

Later at night, when Rose had gone to sleep in the next room, Aragorn sat down next to the elf after putting her to bed, looking at him gravely.

"What is it my love?" Legolas asked softly. Was his beloved angry at him for almost losing his life? He could not resent him if it was so.

"Legolas… do you not know? The elven light in your eyes is diminished…what happened to you?" the man asked worriedly.

To his astonishment, Legolas looked at him surprised for a second and then laughed softly, happily.

"So it was no dream after all. I was quite sure, but a little doubt remained...So I have truly been allowed to share the fate of the race of men."

Aragorn's eyes widened in surprise, but he waited for Legolas to continue.

"My love, I know that I never replied to what you told me a few days ago and I am very sorry, for almost I never got a chance to do so. Probing my heart I found that it had already chosen to follow you. Still, I still quarreled with myself, not about my choice, but about the consequences and did not feel able speak to you yet.

However, you must know that I stood before the entrance to Mandos' halls when you called me and facing death all doubt was erased. I begged the Lord of Mandos to allow me to change my fate and go the way mortal men take after death. He granted me my wish."

Aragorn made no reply, not trusting his voice. He simply held the elf very, very close.

* * *

The next day, they brought Rose to her school and said their farewells, Legolas promising to write to her and visit her quite soon. They embraced, the elf finding that he was quite reluctant to leave the little girl he had grown so fond of behind.

And so the elf and the man returned to Mirkwood, where they had to part their ways once more, Aragorn returning to his Ranger's life and Legolas to his duties in his father's realm. But this is, of course, not quite the end of the story.

Many years later – 13 to be exact – after evil was defeated and the one ring destroyed, a young woman with long curly brown hair undertook the long and strenuous journey from Esgaroth to Minas Tirith along with her husband and her two little children to watch her foster father marrying the newly crowned king of Gondor, known to her as Estel.

She had not met her foster father for more than two years for some duty unknown to her had called him far away and had been most surprised when a messenger with a wedding invitation appeared at her door, asking her and her family to accompany him to Minas Tirith – a city she had only heard about in her foster father's stories – to attend the wedding of Prince Legolas and King Elessar.

The End.


End file.
